Euphonious
by Kerchan
Summary: K/S. In progress. Emotional transferences have never been so frustrating.
1. Chapter 1

**Euphonious**

(Pre-slash/Slash)

**Warnings:** Homosexuality, Vulgar Language, Mature Content (Rating may change depending on future chapter context)

**Pairing(s):** Spock x Kirk (Spirk, Spork, Kock)

...

A/N – I am not a great writer. Let me just say that out front. I am also not very great at accuracy. Please do not mind any inaccuracies you may encounter but you are free to point them out to help me with future projects. Thank you for your interest! Feedback is not expected but always welcome! 8D

Euphonious – _adj._ pleasing to the ear. (i.e. sounds, speech, etc) (That's for any of you who wanted to learn a new word today. Lol)

...

Contrary to popular belief, saving a planet was hard work. There were no oxygen necessary explosions, no thrumming, gut-wrenching intense theme music, no special effects, and no spontaneous circumstances that would play in your favour.

Nope.

This was real life.

The real life of James Tiberius Kirk.

Assuming that destiny had, indeed, been at work here, it was safe to say that the circumstances that surrounded Vulcan's road to shit-out-of-luck and Jim's promotion to Captaincy had been a one time event and not due to repeat itself in the future. No one wrote textbooks on alternate realities (that could be taken seriously) or made guide books that covered topics such as: 'What To Do When A Pissed-Off Romulan From The Future Comes To Your Timeline To Start Shit'. It really was pretty much a one-time thing and that meant that afterwards either things would be smooth sailing or shit would really start to hit the fan.

In Jim's (unfortunate) case, things always seemed to get worse before they ever got better. So it was no surprise that after he had relieved (now) Admiral Christopher Pike that he started to feel a little anxious. Jim would not say he was paranoid, but he worried, because now that the greatest thing in his life had suddenly happened, that meant that something of equal shit-tastic magnitude had to be waiting around the corner for him. Jim never felt so happy in his life to hear that he and all the crew involved with the _Narada_ Crisis were getting a nice three weeks of shore leave. He needed the time to calm his nerves and refocus on his goals. He was James T. Kirk! Man of action! If he was really going to forget that after his heinous struggle with the _Kobayashi Maru_-likeness of his life, then he wasn't worthy to be called Captain, and if there was something Jim was certain about, it was that he definitely _deserved_ to be called Captain.

Everyone (excluding Bones) was still new to all that was Jim Kirk. So when they were packing and leaving the _Enterprise_ to take their shore leave, there were hardly any tearful goodbyes or regulation-defiant PDA. This didn't mean that Jim didn't _want_ to hug his new crew goodbye, but it was unnecessary and just plain creepy on his part since they had spent all of a few days actually working together. Still, as he watched each crewmember board off the beautiful starship, he was sure to give a nod or a handshake to let them know that when they came back he was going to be a very friendly Captain. Spock was among the last to leave. Jim couldn't quite place why he was determined to remember that fact.

_Well, this is very reminiscent_, he thought as both Spock and Jim stood side by side on the Transporter Pad. He tried not to stare but it was hard since an older officer (that Jim didn't know the name to yet) was having minor problems with the Transporter functions and so the two of them were just standing there idly for what felt like an eternity, not speaking. It was kind of unnerving and a shade bit unbearable. Most people hated loud noises and yelling, but Jim found silence to be the most unpleasant and almost a polar equivalent to ear piercing sounds. He'd welcome some yelling at this point because the tension around him and the stiff-backed Vulcan was just crushing. After another two minutes went by, he was finding his stupidity impulses to be far too overpowering and it was only a matter of time before he would look at Spock and probably say something dumb. It was just _that_ uncomfortable.

Finally, the impulses broke through and he abruptly turned towards Spock who hadn't moved an inch and looked as ramrod straight as a, well, as a Vulcan. He opened his mouth and took a breath, but before he could say anything, Spock beat him to the punch.

"Where I am partaking my shore leave is of no concern to you." Okay, that was kind of predictable, so he opened he mouth to try a different approach but Spock cut him off before he even got the next breath. "Being Captain is not a valid excuse to pursue that information." Damn. There went the Captain card. They had only spent, what, a few days in each other's company and Spock already had him figured out? Not cool.

Jim straightened himself and tried to mimic Spock's pose by putting his hands behind his back and standing as tall as he could. "Well, _I'm_ going to go say 'what's up' to my mom and maybe visit the Academy and soak up all the perks of being a world-saving hero. Maybe mess around in the engineering labs or goof off or something." Spock gave no response and didn't bother to grace Jim with any movement. Jim really tried to mimic him just to see if it would annoy him. "Just in case you were curious." He added under his breath.

_Guess it's safe to say that you weren't,_ Jim thought when all he could noticeably see was the Vulcan's back stiffen and his hands clasp a little tighter. Okay, so maybe Spock was still a little upset about the whole 'compromise' ordeal and sure, Jim hadn't apologized yet and that could really make an unemotional Vulcan saucy, but it didn't look like he'd accept it if he tried now anyway. He appeared to have a lot on his mind and Jim's sad attempt at apologizing might just put another hand around his throat. Jim really liked living.

_So, apology is out of the question._

He shuffled his feet for only a moment. Couldn't that officer work any faster? Where the hell was Scotty when you needed him? Silence overtook them and the tension was so thick that the unknown officer looked to be sweating from the pressure and that may have aided in the whole 'working slow as hell' department. It wasn't long before Jim sighed and decided to try again.

"You going anywhere with Uhura?" Vulcan dismissal in 3, 2, 1—

"Captain, that information—"

"Jesus, Spock!" Jim threw his hands in the air and blinked several times as he shuffled and turned his head to look at the taller man. "I'm just trying to make some small-talk. _Humour_ _me_, for Pete's sake."

Silence.

The only sounds heard were the few coughs and sniffles from the officer working on the console. Jim had returned to his mimic of Spock's stiff figure (not to imitate him but because he just really felt like secluding himself right then and Vulcan posture was the authority in looking secluded) and only gave a barely audible sigh. The more he thought about it, the more of an ass he began to feel like. He had just gotten a little frustrated with the Commander that he was kind of hoping would accept his proposal to be his First Officer. He hadn't selected one yet and Spock hadn't given any clues of what he was going to do or even if he had received the formal request. For all he knew, this would be the last time he saw Spock.

_Way to fuck over that decision_.

Jim rubbed the back of his neck and felt incredibly stupid. Their rocky first meeting and all the events that had taken place were still fresh on his mind. He hadn't meant to blow his lid a little. "I'm sorry." Was what Jim wanted to say but before he had managed to breathe out his first vowel, Spock had inclined his head and looked at the young Captain with what Jim thought was interest.

"You say that you are going to visit your mother?" The question had caught him off guard, so he was unsure how to reply and was caught with his mouth open in a small gape. Had Spock really just _humoured_ him? For some unknown reason, the thought that the Vulcan actually decided to play nice with him for their allotted time on the Transporter made his face flush.

"Um," great start, now actually use words, "yeah." Now elaborate. "Gonna take a few shuttlecrafts and a speed train all the way to Riverside. She's waiting for me and it should only take a day or two to actually get there."

"Do you speak with your mother often?" What kind of question was that? Sure, he spoke with her about as much as he spoke to his bathroom soap dispenser—which, granted, the dispenser probably had more interesting things to say and didn't nag him about cleaning behind his ears.

He shuffled his feet. "Yeah—no. Probably not as much as I should. I mean, I call her on important dates and sometimes just to check on her, but other than that, we don't really talk much." _And trust me, I have a completely valid excuse for that._

"I see." Now it looked like Spock shuffled his feet. "She is in good health?" Jim stared at him with the same confused and put-out expression he had used back during the _Kobayashi Maru_ hearing. Why was Spock so interested in his mother? There were probably a bazillion other topics they could cover so why would—then it hit him. Jim could have kicked himself in the ass for talking so nonchalantly about his own mother. He had doubtlessly sounded like a dick of a son to Vulcan ears. Spock had lost his mother only two days ago. It was still fresh and here Jim was talking about his like she was just another person he was forced to come in contact with.

If Bones had been here, he probably would have punched Jim in the gut and called him a dick. It was too bad Bones wasn't necessary for said gut-punching actions, because Jim was pretty good at punching himself.

"Uh, she's well." Quickly, change the subject! "Hey," Spock looked over to him pointedly, "if you don't have any big plans for your shore leave, do you maybe wanna come and meet her?" Smooth, Jim. Real smooth. Next, why don't you ask him for his number and have a slumber party in your basement?

An eyebrow shot up and Jim instantly felt retarded for asking such a dumb and forward question. What was he thinking? Even the other officer's brows were in his hairline from the on-the-spot question. It didn't help that Jim kept talking because, you know, Jim's nervous system just liked to fuck him up on a constant basis. "I'm pretty sure she'd love to meet the Vulcan that helped me save her favourite planet." The brow settled down and the young Captain just shut up as Spock turned away from him. He had been really forward so it was safe to assume that he just freaked the Commander out. So much for not having creepy goodbyes.

"Ah, Captain Kirk, your offer is appreciated but I must decline. I have already made plans that cannot be rescheduled." He paused. "Perhaps, another time?"

"Of course, Mr. Spock." was his automatic response. It took his brain a little while to catch up before he realized that Spock had just agreed to meet his mother at some point in the future. Before he could say anything about it, the unknown officer gave a laugh of victory and just as Jim turned to the Vulcan with his mouth open ready to say something more, he was already being taken apart atom by atom. The last thing Jim saw before the flat surface of the shuttledock was that Spock had been looking at him too.

...

It wasn't that Winona Kirk was hard to talk to, it was just getting her to shut up that was the hard part. Seriously, if Jim could get a dollar for every breath she had to take to continue her run-on sentences, he'd be a damn millionaire by now. And now, since he was the world's saviour and all that, she _really_ had a lot to say. The topics were completely one-sided as she went from saying how much she missed her baby boy to how much she wanted to deck him for being stupid and causing so much trouble. At one point she even threatened to ground him to his old room just for the sake of it. Jim could only laugh as he told her that'd he'd just sneak out again like he used to do when he was ten. Plus, he was a Captain now and Captains don't get grounded—at least, not in the 'go to your room' way.

"Oh, Jimmy," his mother sighed as she sipped from her cup. They were having lunch at one of the local diners in town and though Jim wasn't hungry, she insisted they go there and catch up. And by 'catch up' she really just meant more one-sided conversations. "You've grown so much." She finally said with a motherly smile. "I wish your father could be here to see you now. He'd be so proud, you know."

"I know, Mom." He picked at his fries and drew pictures in his ketchup.

"Sam is proud too, though he hasn't called to say so. He's probably just as happy about your accomplishments as I am."

"Maybe," Jim interjected, "or he could be beating himself up about how he has to work extra hard at the colony on Deneva to make us even." She threw a playful fry at him.

"Jimmy! You know how I feel about you two competing!"

"What? Me? _Competing?_ Nah, I don't need to compete with Sam, we've already established that I'm the more awesome brother and he's an epic fail." He was joking, of course. Sam was an intelligent scientist that could think him under the table if he wanted to. He went to take a bite of the fry thrown at him, but she snatched it away. He gave pouty lips like he was five again. "Hey, I was gonna eat that!" And the rest of the conversation included topics about how Jim was being silly and how Sam needed to call more and he vaguely recalled something about her saying she might have left the milk out again. He didn't really tune back into the conversation until she tapped his hand.

"Did you hear me?" She asked. Jim nodded and then shook his head. She rolled her eyes. "I asked, who was that strapping young man with the pointed ears that is also all over the news with you?"

"Oh, him? That's Spock, the Commander I told you about who tried to nail me for beating his test." She gave one of her 'mother' looks.

"I do hope you mean 'nail' in a bad way and not your usual way." Jim's face went bright red and he slightly choked on his iced tea, nearly spitting it out across the table.

"Mom!" He choked a little. "Of course I mean the bad way!"

"With you, I wonder sometimes." Jim chuckled in disbelief and more out of nervousness than anything.

"First of all, he's a Vulcan and I'm almost certain Vulcans don't 'nail' people that way; also, he's a guy and I don't know if you recall but I typically chase skirts." He wanted the conversation to die there but she persisted and wanted to know everything about Vulcan Spock and how they had fought and worked together and, if his mother could have her way, she'd probably want to know how he brushed his teeth. For the rest of the afternoon she questioned about Spock. Jim was not prepared to be talking about that pointy-eared Commander all day (mainly because he hardly knew anything himself), but it seemed that's what ended up happening. She was very interested like she was trying to get to know Jim's new girlfriend before she met her. It was a bit annoying.

Finally, his five days of visit with her had ended and as he tried to pack his things quietly and leave before she'd have a chance to wake up and give him the most long, drawn-out, teary goodbye ever, he was caught at the door.

"Leaving without saying goodbye again, Jimmy?" Jim had stopped mid-step and probably looked like an idiot with his foot halfway out the door and his body hovering forward in mid-stride. He rolled his eyes and turned around while at the same time letting his small drawstring bag drop from his shoulder. He didn't have to fake his smile, he was pretty impressed she caught him. It was like, five in the morning.

"Bye, Mom. I'm off to save the world." He gave a long shrug. "_Again._"

"Ha, you're funny." She opened her arms and gave a sarcastic look. "The least you could do is give me a hug. Before you left for the academy I didn't even get a last look at you. You owe me this."

"Fine." He grunted but it sounded more like "fiiiiiiine" by the way he said it as he slumped towards her languidly with his feet dragging on the carpet. He was much taller than her so she ended up hugging him around his chest and putting her forehead on his shoulder as they embraced. She smelt like shampoo, wet, and sleep, but he didn't mind because he knew he had to smell worse since he hadn't showered yet. She held on to him tightly and he held her back. She may have had a mouth that could run a couple thousand miles an hour, but when she was silent, it was truly golden and meant very much to him. It was like she was telling him with silence that this hug meant more to her than any accomplishment in the universe.

He pulled away with his hands on her shoulders and then he saw it, the tears in her eyes with a smile on her lips and reddened cheeks.

"I will miss you." She said too quietly. _Don't get sappy! Don't get sappy!_ Quickly, make a snarky observation!

"How can you miss me if you won't let me go?" Jim snickered as she noticed that she had a firm grip on his shirt. She gave an airy laugh and released him. He turned to head back to the door but she caught his jaw gently and directed his eyes back to her.

"Be safe and try not to start any intergalactic wars." There was that Kirk twinkle that could only be in a Kirk's eyes.

"Ouch, mom. You're asking a lot. Do you want me to chop off my balls and leave them at the door for you?" That comment got him another hug but at least it was nice to see her smiling. When she finally pulled away again, they said goodbye for the third time and the young Captain made his leave. Just as he turned to close the door behind him, he took one last look at his mother. She had already started heading up the stairs and Jim watched her with a smile—but then his smile fell as he saw for a split second that it looked like his mother was coming down the stairs in a Starfleet uniform. She walked, looked over at him, smiled, and then she was gone, his real mother still ascending the steps. The last thing he saw was the bottom of her nightgown as she finally reached the top.

That was weird.

He shook his head and closed the door, thinking to himself he must have been remembering one of the times his mom was leaving for Starfleet duty. He'd never seen a memory so vivid before, though. It was strange, but he dismissed it as sleep deprivation and the emotions that he just swam through in their goodbye.

Little did Jim know that this would only be the beginning.

...

He still had about two weeks left of shore leave by the time he arrived back in San Francisco and came back to the pristine Starfleet Academy. Little had changed in the surroundings except for the remodeling they had started working on to fix up the ground from the massive shock it received when Nero's drill head fell from the sky. The river beside them was now bigger as it tried to take part of the campus grounds with it and the workmen had been trying to flood the water back into the river and rebuild the terrain. Jim just supposed that Starfleet either really liked their campus grounds or they just hated sharing with a river. The thought put a mental image in his head of Admiral Barnett (the man who directed his trial back during the _Kobayashi Maru_ shit) standing in front of the flooded campus and shouting for the water to go back. That man seriously had a frightening voice and wouldn't have been surprised if the river listened.

He wasn't, at first, going to spend his shore leave back on campus and had made initial plans to spend it entirely in Riverside, but Pike had told him about some small parties and celebrations where people would just be so happy if the world's youngest Captain and hero would attend. There was plenty to do around the campus and there were plenty of cadets to mingle with along with graduates he'd been in class with. He may even go down into the engineering labs like he told Spock and mess around with simulations or scare the newbies into thinking the higher ups were plotting a test harder than the _Kobayashi Maru_. Yeah, that would be fun.

He set off for the front office to register himself for some temporary lodgings with his mind filled of all the things he could do, wanted to do, and shouldn't do (but was going to do anyway), but what he hadn't expected to see was a familiar black cap of hair and pointy ears as he stepped inside.

It was a good thing Jim had seen him or they would have crashed into each other since one was coming in and one was going out. The way they had stopped had them perfectly fixed between the automatic doors so that they couldn't close. On second thought, Jim might not have been expecting to see Spock but this was the academy and that wasn't weird at all, but what _was_ unexpected was that Spock had nearly bumped into him.

Spock.

The ever careful, ever logical, ever calm and collected Vulcan nearly crashed headfirst into him. What possibly distracted Spock so much that he'd nearly make _that_ mistake?

"Captain Kirk." Spock said with a slight incline of his head. His eyes looked a little more wider than Jim remembered them looking.

"Commander Spock." Jim offered as an equal reaction. No one said anything further and that was just plain odd. They were still standing in the doorway and both realized at the same time that one of them should, you know, _move_. Unfortunately, they both had the same idea at the sametime and in the _same step_ so they ended up dancing in the doorway still blocking the other. After the third or so attempt to move left or right and still managing to be in the other's way, they gave up and were right back how they started. Jim knew how awkward this was even if Spock still looked as uptight as he typically did.

"How about one of us moves and the other just stands still?" Jim offered. Spock nodded and moved back a few steps to allow Jim entrance. The door shut instantly behind him but Spock was still in front of him. Jim was very aware of the eyes that had wandered over to them and felt his face burn with embarrassment since he and Spock just did the equivalent of door-tango.

He thought that would be the end of it and Spock would go about his merry (Vulcan) way, and sure enough Spock started to head out, but something inside Jim's stomach turned and he felt the strangest impulse to just call out to him. It was a weird feeling that was only matched by the fact that Spock responded and turned towards him. For a solid moment in time, Spock had appeared older and it looked like they were on the Bridge of the _Enterprise_.

"Captain?" the older Spock asked and Jim shook his head for an instant and he was back in the front office of the academy and Spock was his young self again. He didn't have much time to think about how impossibly strange that was as Spock continued to stare at him heavily. "Captain?" He inquired again and took a step towards him. "Do you require something?"

"Uh," that was honestly the only vowel sound he could make at the moment since he really had no reason to call him. He shuffled with awkwardness and came up with a bullshit excuse on the spot—'cause that was the James T. Kirk way sometimes. "Wanna go have breakfast together?" _Slumber party in the basement anyone?_ Damnit! Why in the world did Jim have to sound so creepy? He had no idea where that came from and it was frustrating to know he was fumbling over words like an idiot. What was worse was that the only offered answer Spock gave was a twitch of his left brow. Great, Jim couldn't even get a full rise out of the damn thing.

"I would not be adverse to such an activity." Spock said evenly. Jim sighed and waved him off.

"Ah, I knew it, you have things to do and that's—wait, what?" Spock took another bold step forward.

"As I have not yet received sustenance this morning, breakfast sounds appealing. I accept you offer, Captain." It was Jim's turn to raise an eyebrow though he knew at heart it wasn't nearly as graceful as Spock's. He hadn't seen that coming. Spock wanted to have breakfast with him? He seemed in a hurry not two minutes ago so his behaviour was just as weird as Jim asking the question in the first place.

Of course, Jim wasn't known to look a gifted horse in the mouth.

"Oh, okay. Where would you like to eat?"

"I have no preference." They began walking out the door together and Jim mentally noted that using a door this way was far easier than trying to collide two people in it.

"How about the cafeteria?"

"Acceptable." Spock told him flatly. Somehow that one word made him snicker and he didn't have the slightest idea why it was funny. Spock apparently didn't either as he raised his brow but then it settled as if to say he could care less what Jim thought was and wasn't funny. Jim just assumed it was the whole idea of Spock accepting his breakfast invite. When he arrived this morning, the last thing on his mind was breakfast—especially with Spock. Stranger things had happened, though.

The cafeteria wasn't crowded because most of the cadets ate in their dorms in the morning anyway and didn't bother coming in there until lunch. Spock and Jim found a table by one of the large windows and Jim insisted that he go and get them their food. When asked what he wanted, Spock said a plate of fruit would suffice and though Jim tried to urge him to suggest something less _gay_ he found that the Vulcan's hard stare was more than enough to make him run for the nearest grapefruit.

_Vulcan wants fruit. Vulcan gets fruit._

He returned with two plates: one contained a variety of sliced fruits and the other had waffles with banana slices. He set the fruit in front of the silent Vulcan and then sat across from him with his own dish.

They began to eat in silence.

Man, it was just like they were back on the Transporter Pad. It was that same weird quiet only it didn't feel as stagnate now as it did then. Nevertheless, Jim was antsy as hell and desperately require a minimum of twenty-three hours of conversation a day to keep him sane.

He took a bite of his waffle and gestured the fork lazily around. "So, what brings you to the academy? Got some unfinished projects or something?" Jim immediately regretted asking that because Spock's features seemed to tense all at once. Jim retreated; he wasn't in the mood to screw things up just yet, even if his question had been an innocent one. "Forget I asked that, I mean, you're _always_ finding an excuse to work." More silence fell over them. Jim suddenly didn't feel like waffles anymore and Spock had barely touched his fruit. Something was obviously wrong. Were the affects of the _Narada_ Crisis finally settling in on him?

"Spock," he ventured, "are you okay?" The Vulcan gave a slight nod and schooled his face into a perfect replica of a Japanese Noh mask. "Are you sure? I mean, you can talk about it if you want." Spock inclined his head slightly telling him he neither agreed nor disagreed with that statement. It was suddenly very apparent that he was about to get hit with another Vulcan dismissal bomb in just a few seconds.

"I am well, Captain Kirk. Tell me, did the visit with your mother go well?"

Direct hit. Target destroyed.

Okay, so whatever it was, Spock didn't want to disclose it and he fled back to the topic of his mother again. Jim could roll with it, it's not like he was a big enough ass to call Spock out on his purposeful hint. He decided to accept the conversation direction and began to speak kindly of his visit. He was sure to avoid the topics about how much he found her rambling annoying and how they got into an argument or two and only tried to focus on the good stuff. Jim didn't notice Spock's change in demeanour until he was halfway through telling the story about how he and his brother 'compete'. He appeared very interested in the conversation and his small inquires and interjections were neither rude nor unwelcome. It was nice. Jim thought Spock's way of speech was actually very complimenting to his own.

Somehow or another they ended up circling back the conversation to why they were at the academy. Good thing the focus was on Jim this time.

"Oh, Pike was telling me about some parties and stuff happening and I kinda wanted to stick around for them. Also, I wanted to play around with some of the new flight simulations and maybe bug an old instructor or two." And we have eyebrow liftoff. "Besides _you_, of course." Jim amended with one of his infamous perverted smiles. There was a tiny glimmer of laughter behind Spock's eyes and had Jim not been looking at them, he might have missed it. It really made the tension ease off a bit. Jim liked that.

"I noticed that you still have your bag with you," Spock nodded towards the bag lying next to his chair, "have you not registered yourself a temporary lodge?" Jim chuckled and gave a warm smile.

"Well, I was about to do that before we decided to dance in the doorway but it slipped my mind. I should probably do that now, huh?" Yeah, because having a place to sleep tonight would be awesome. Spock nodded silently and stood. Jim joined him shortly.

"You have my gratitude for inviting me to join you for breakfast, Captain. I would not object to engaging in this activity again."

"No prob. I liked eating with you too." If Spock wasn't so reserved you may have thought that that tiny sparkle in the Vulcan's eye had been amusement from Jim's short take on Spock's long thanks, but as it was, Spock _was_ reserved so Jim dismissed it as his imagination.

"Now, if you will excuse me," Spock started as he picked up his plate to dispose of it, "I do have projects to attend to. Thank you again, Captain." And just as quickly as it had all happened, Spock was gone. He stood there for a long minute with a grin wrapped around his face as he focused on what had just transpired. Who knew Spock could be so delightfully chatty in a completely non-chatty way? He shook his head and tried to stifle his grin since he probably still looked creepy to onlookers, but he couldn't and he didn't manage to wipe it away until he heard his name called.

"Captain Kirk." The voice was heavy, warm and familiar. Jim didn't need to turn around to know who it was.

"Pike," He pointedly said before he turned and saluted his commanding officer. The older man was wearing that half-smile he typically wore and he still looked as proud as he did the day of Jim's promotion. Behind Pike was another cadet who smiled brightly and had her hands firmly on the handles of Pike's wheelchair.

"I knew it was you over here, your ego has a distinct smell to it." Jim gave a laugh and let himself relax.

"You're starting to sound like Bones, Pike."

"Yes, Dr. McCoy would probably agree with me." Pike nodded. He then tilted over to the side of his chair to look at something but had obviously not seen whatever it was he wanted to. "Was that Commander Spock with you just now?" Jim blinked, it was still new information to him that Spock had joined him to eat at all.

"Ah, yes. It was. But you know how Spock is. He'd rather put his head into some poor cadet's misfortune than stay around for after meal chats." Pike nodded but he looked more like he was thinking than actually listening.

"I thought that was him—no, I _knew_ it was him, but I was just surprised. I had been told that he was going to be taking his shore leave in Portland. The way he informed me, I was certain we weren't going to see him until after his leave. I suppose his plans changed." Jim didn't know Spock very well but he had served with him for a short amount of time and had been in one of his lecture classes for a semester so if there was one thing he was certain of, it was Spock doesn't change his plans. At least, not as quickly as Pike was implying. Maybe this was why he had reacted so strangely to Jim's question of his being at the academy. Some serious shit must have gone down. But what?

Pike interrupted his thoughts by kicking him with one of his barely mobile legs. "You listening, boy?" Jim had been spacing out a lot lately. Note to self: quit it. "I asked if you were going to attend the Memorial Ball tonight? All the big wigs are going to be commemorating all the fallen men and women with a party for them and their families." It wasn't necessary for Jim to be there since this was more of a Starfleet thing to families thing, but he knew there would be several people there who would want to thank him for various reasons and would appreciate his arrival.

"Yeah, I was planning on it. What's the dress code?"

"Just wear your dress uniform and everything should be fine."

"Got it, should I be there early or do I arrive fashionably late?"

"I'll meet with you in front of the auditorium at 20:00. We'll arrive together to make sure everyone knows you're there. Oh and Kirk, Barnett said he would be honoured if you gave a small speech. Think you can handle it?" Jim shook his head with a firm smile and laughed.

"No offense, Sir, but I saved your ass from a hostage situation and nearly got _my_ ass killed in the process, I don't think a speech will be hard to handle." Pike nodded.

"Good. Look sharp and if you manage to see Commander Spock before then, let him know that he is invited too." Both smiled and it was like one a father and son would share. Jim really looked up to Pike and it seemed Pike really enjoyed that. "Alright, let's go, Dawson." He motioned to the cadet behind him and he was wheeled away with the words 'see ya, Kirk' fading with them.

As Pike was strolled off out of the cafeteria, Jim couldn't help but to smile. Barnett wanted him to do a speech? That was surprising but since he had been in the line of duty and took on a lot of the Romulan rage, thinking of something to say about those brave officers wouldn't be very hard. It'd be sad, but not hard.

Suddenly, all the noteable suffering had led Jim to remember what Pike said about Spock. Why had he gone to Portland? Did he have family there? Maybe a Human family? He mentally shook his head, that didn't quite sound like a place the Vulcan would have family. But his plans were cut short, not even Pike knew he was going to see Spock here, so something bad must have happened. Or maybe Jim was just jumping to conclusions and Spock was really just suffering from the aftershocks of the _Narada _Crisis. Jim wouldn't put it pass him. His throat still tingled from his last emotional compromise.

In the short time they had served together, it wasn't really Elder Spock that had convinced him that he and his Spock would have some chemistry together. From the moment Jim laid eyes on him at his trial, to when he beamed back aboard to make the necessary damage to Spock's ego, Jim knew.

He just knew.

Spock and he were just meant for great things. And somehow that knowledge wasn't as frightening as Jim thought it would be.

Nothing could have proved his last point further than when Jim got the code for his temporary lodge. As he arrived at his room, he keyed in the code and the moment the door swished open, the door beside his also swished open.

He should have been surprised, but he wasn't by now.

It was Spock.

_The universe is determined to throw this guy at me._

"Captain Kirk." Spock said uniformly with a straightening of his back.

"I swear I'm not stalking you." Jim said with a sheepish grin. "Though, this is a little coincidental." Spock inclined his head in agreement. They fell silent again. Jim switched from foot to foot. "So, looks like we're going to be neighbors for a while."

"Yes."

"Geez, this will make asking for a cup of sugar a little awkward." Somehow Jim knew that the Vulcan was about to comment on the low probability of him actually needing a cup of sugar when there were replicators in every room, so he threw his hand up to stop Spock from saying anything. "I know, I know." He said with a roll of his eyes. "I probably won't _need_ any sugar, you don't have to go all Vulcan on me." An eyebrow tilted and Spock said nothing.

_Holy shit, I had been right._

Spock was completely capable of walking off right then to wherever he was going, but for some unknown reason had decided to stay put. Maybe it was because of the young Captain's new rank or maybe it was something else, but he didn't look like he was going anywhere. To help with the oddity of running into each other _again_, Jim decided to ask him about the party.

"So, I'm going to be giving a small speech at the Memorial Ball tonight." This caught the Vulcan's attention. "You're invited too, just so you know." There was a long pause. "Want to be my date?" He meant it in a completely joking manner and matched it with a laugh and a bright, goofy smile. In the back of his head beat the words: _slumber party—basement_ and Jim wanted to strangle his conscience.

Spock tensed but then relaxed, mainly around his eyes. He appeared to be in deep thought for a few minutes before he gave any answer. "As I have made no plans for the evening, I will accept your offer to accompany you to the Ball. However, I will not be your _date_, but should you need advice on your speech or appearance, I will be readily available to you." That was the weirdest way someone had ever told Jim to 'fuck off' in his life—either that or Jim was hearing things. Today was just full of unexpected shit. He nearly stumbled over his next question.

"You're serious?"

"Affirmative."

"Holy shit."

"Does my answer not please you?"

"Oh, no, no, no, it pleases me alright. I just wasn't—oh who cares? You know, I could use some help on writing a small speech if you wouldn't mind." Once again, who the hell looks a gifted horse in the mouth? Maybe this was Spock's attempt to bridge the gap that had formed between them with their rocky start, or maybe Spock was plotting a horrible revenge against him and Jim didn't know about it, but none of that mattered to him. Whatever the Vulcan's reasons, Jim welcomed them.

He stepped to the side and bent his head down with his arm stuck out to insinuate that Spock could enter his room. Spock hesitated, then accepted as he strode pass him and into the crisp-new lodge.

...

A/N – And so begins a new story from the retarded mind of Kerchan. Thank you for your interest! 8D


	2. Chapter 2

A/N – I am surprised by the responses I have gotten! Thank you so much! *blush*BLUSH* I hope you enjoy this chapter as well!

...

After a long debate over whether or not it was appropriate to include swearing in a small speech to be given to Starfleet personnel and mourning families, Jim had finally finished writing his speech.

"I have found that most Humans do not require such a comprehensive amount of time to write such a diminutive example of heartfelt emotions, but you, Captain, have managed to prove said knowledge wrong. I would congratulate you, but I believe you would find the notion gratuitous." So it had never taken Jim that long to write a short speech before, and hey, maybe he _was_ being an ass on purpose just to set Spock off and irritate him a little, but this speech was kind of important. He wanted it to sound beautiful for the families. He was the big hero, after all, and the last thing he wanted to do was to fuck over such an important event.

Not that he would have had Spock not helped him, but Jim's knack for fuckery was about as expansive as Spock's vocabulary. It was necessary to take precaution.

"Um, thanks, I think?" It came out more in a yawn than in actual words, but the featureless look on the Commander's face didn't look like he needed to repeat himself.

He lazily looked over to the provided chronometre on his wall and shook his head. "We spent _a lot_ more time on this than I thought we would," his voice was laced with small laughter. Working with Spock had been far more enjoyable than he believed possible. First of all, from experience in his lecture class, he knew that the Vulcan was anal about rules and had guessed prior to this team effort that Spock was going to ride his ass about grammar and sentence structure or some other bullshit. But that hadn't happened at all. His words may have sounded sharp, even a little incredulous of his choice of phrases, but the provided help was far from unappreciated. He suggested colourful metaphors, reasonable logic, and even opted to recommend emotions to convey by use of emphasis and endearment.

_Why, Mr. Spock, I do believe you _may_ be something of a poet._

Over all, a very productive evening.

Spock seemed to agree. "Though tedious, it was a collaborative effort and, therefore, quite fruitful. I am gratified that I was able to convince you of the illogic behind referring to Captain Nero as 'the fucktard Romulan ass from another dimension'." That made Jim giggle-snort, and though that probably wasn't one of his more graceful gestures, hearing the Commander recite his colourful vocabulary in his own decadent monotones was just too funny to care about how stupid he sounded.

"_I_ thought it was fitting. Long winded? Yes, but very, very fitting." That got him a questionable look and a small dismissal.

"I hardly see how such a derogatory phrase could be viewed as 'fitting'." Instead of calling Spock on his bullshit and reminding him how _he_ questioned Jim on offering assistance to said fucktard Romulan ass, he just rolled his eyes and gave a light chuckle.

"Well, if _that's_ hard to fathom, then you obviously haven't spent enough time around Humans." It was a joke.

Oh right, Vulcans didn't normally joke, so it came as no surprise that Spock jumped to his own defense. "Captain, I have spent—" Jim raised his hand to stop him; he was actually amazed that the Commander stopped mid-breath.

"That wasn't a jab at your terran history, Mr. Spock. I was just trying to lighten the mood. Chill." He thought he would comment on the illogic of telling someone to 'chill', and he was ready to explain the colloquialism, but the Commander didn't seem in the mood to argue over such things. Actually, the more Jim thought about it, Spock appeared more relaxed than he remembered him looking before.

Directly in front of the entry way was a small desk pushed up against the wall. They had pulled over the only two chairs in the small room and had been sitting side-by-side during the making of the speech. During that time, Jim hadn't noticed just how comfortable he felt around Spock. In turn, he hadn't noticed how comfortable Spock was making himself. His back was less straight, his hands loose, eyes less tense, and his conversation not as harsh. It was a complete opposite appearance from when he saw the Commander in his classes or back during the _Kobayashi Maru_ hearing.

Back then, Jim was almost certain that if Vulcan eyes could shoot phaser canons at will, his head would have exploded long before Admiral Barnett gave any orders regarding Vulcan. But now, _now_, it wasn't like that. Even back on the Transporter Pad, his eyes were cold, strict, and though Jim may have babbled like an idiot just to make small talk, it hadn't been a very pleasant experience. So what was different now?

They fell back into small conversation about the speech. Spock had one of those Vulcan epiphanies that could either be too logical or just what the speech needed. In this case, it was too logical and they were discussing it. He noted to himself that when the Commander believed he was being helpful, he was actually quite enthusiastic (or as enthusiastic as a Vulcan could get). His eyes were a little brighter, and Jim fell victim to them instantly.

As the Vulcan gave his reasons why his point A was better than Jim's point B, he tried to place the exact colour of Spock's eyes. In this lighting, they looked more chocolate, but on the _Enterprise_ they looked more black—like a blacker than black, black. Looking at them now, he found he liked the chocolate colour much better. It was like staring into a cup of hot cocoa, and just as warm. He lost himself in them, drinking up the metaphorical chocolate and hardly adding to the conversation with anything more than 'yeah's and 'uh-huh's.

"Captain, I believe your mind is occupied." He snapped back to reality just as Spock broke their gaze. He flushed in exactly the way badass Captains _don't_. How long had he been staring into his eyes like that? _Why_ had he been staring into his eyes like that?

Nervousness made him look away and rub the back of his neck. "What do you mean, Mr. Spock? I was just enjoying our conversation." Bullshit, Jim knew. If Spock had the balls to call him on it and ask him to repeat something from their previous conversation right now, it would only further prove just how _occupied_ he had been.

Eyebrow liftoff. "I had asked when you planned to dress into your uniform for tonight's event and the only response you gave was a verbal acknowledgement." If Jim didn't know any better he'd say that Spock looked huffed. "May I inquire as to what was distracting you?"

_No. I'd much rather you didn't._

Mainly because when a dude stared into another dude's eyes, that shit just couldn't be good. He still lacked a reason as to _why_ he had done at all, and here Spock wanted answers too. Since they were becoming acquainted with each other, maybe even becoming friends, he figured an explanation was in order—but it didn't mean he'd have to tell the truth. Faltering for only a moment, his steeled himself and was able to answer without hesitation. "I'm just a bit nervous, you know?" It wasn't _entirely_ a lie.

The given reply was another tilting eyebrow as if he was asking, '_You? Nervous?_ Are you _trying_ to be funny? Because, hey, Vulcan here; not laughing.' Well, it was a start and if he was going to half-lie, he might as well half-truth. You know, balance and all that.

"Yeah, you know, there's going to be a lot of families there and I just don't know if my speech will be good enough to let them know how sorry we are for their losses." Shy, uncertain Kirk? What dimension was this and who the hell was this guy? Those questions were all asked by that damn eyebrow. Jim knew it was uncharacteristic of him to show doubt since he'd been such an asshole about the whole Nero thing and stowaway thing _and_ mutiny thing. But, he was far from lying. His ego might be able to inflate into a zeppelin and he may have been about as culturally sensitive as barbed wire, but even he had his weaknesses—and if the truth be told, he _was_ a little nervous. A lot of people died that day. _An entire planet_, he reminded himself. He figured he deserved to be a little put out by it all.

"Captain," it was quiet, but smooth as silk in the silence they had fallen into. Jim looked up at him; when had the situation turned so serious? "Your speech is well written and a perfect example of the Human emotions that Starfleet wishes to convey. There is no need to self-doubt your abilities." Pause. "In your writing." The way his last sentence had come out, it seemed like Spock was trying to cover something that slipped, but Jim hadn't heard a falter to misunderstand what he meant.

Before he could try and interpret the featureless poker face of the Commander, Spock stood up and smoothed out his instructor uniform like he didn't look uptight enough. Jim followed suit. They were now facing each other.

"As Admiral Pike requested to meet you at 20:00, I shall take my leave and return here at 19:30 to help you correctly decorate your dress uniform. In my absence, I recommend that you either print speech cards or memorize said speech." And on that note, Spock turned away and headed for the door. He was just about within the motion detector's range when Jim felt compelled to call for him like he had done in the front office. Ever professional, Spock froze in mid-step and turned back around to see what Jim needed.

"Would you prefer a more formal valediction, Captain?" His eyes were hard again, black and professional, the calm chocolate gone along with the repose. It was the Transporter Pad scene all over again. He had no idea where the stick that planted itself firmly in Spock's ass had come from, but then he remembered that this was _Spock_ and Spock was just a normally uptight person. This was normal. Despite the heavy stare, Jim felt good inside that Spock had allowed him to see him in a relaxed state. Privileged even.

Ignoring the sudden blank glare, he walked over towards the Commander so that they stood exactly how they had in the _Jellyfish_ before Nero was destroyed.

So close and yet so far.

Spock looked down at him from his three-inch taller height, a question on his lips as to why Jim bothered to get up. He looked stiff, like he was ready for some kind of reprimand, but also not quite unlike how a cadet looked when they were fretful of being caught. He could have been imagining that last part (since if he asked, Spock would no doubt reply something along the lines of 'Vulcans don't experience fret'), but he didn't really have much else to go on. It's not like he knew many other Vulcans to compare him to.

"Thank you." Jim finally said. For some reason, his breath felt caught. "For helping me with my speech, I mean." He added far more quickly than he intended. Damn, even thanking him made him sound creepy. It just seemed unavoidable. "God knows I can fuck over the easiest of tasks when they don't pertain to saving planets or adrenaline-filled ass kicking." He continued. "So, really, thank you." Still distracted by his self-claimed creepy-factor, he wasn't aware that he had placed a hand on the Commander's shoulder until it was too late. It took a minute for him to remember again that Vulcans and touching went together as well as oil and water, so stiffening himself, he pulled his hand away apologetically and looked at his feet.

_Way to go, Kirk. You know how he feels about touching._

But, if his sudden touch had caused any discomfort, Jim didn't get to see it because his feet were just too damn interesting. He stayed that way for a moment longer before Spock finally reacted.

"I shall return at 19:30, Captain." He looked up and it was evident that the Vulcan had removed the stick. His eyes gleamed their nice chocolate colour again and he couldn't help but to smile, like a private joke was being shared between them.

"It's a date, Commander." He said like his ego hadn't deflated for a moment. Instead of correcting the young Captain on his use of the word 'date' and specifically how said word didn't pertain to anything that they would be engaging in, he just inclined his head in acceptance and turned on his heels to exit.

Jim considered that a win.

...

Jim watched the chronometre.

It's not like he was _waiting_ for anything in particular.

He was just obsessed with that strikingly good-looking clock. _Yeah, let's go with that one._ But had he not been watching—_observing the dashing good looks—_of the chronometre, he would have missed the painfully comedic fact that his door didn't chime until exactly 19:30:00. Damn, that Vulcan was the epitome of punctual.

Unconsciously, he mussed his hair and was quick to answer the door. It swished open and he was greeted by a startling, flashy Vulcan.

There was no need to comment on his clean-shaven face or his perfectly bowl-cut hair as those were always as immaculate as porcelain, but his uniform was slightly different. It was entirely black, just as his instructor uniform was, but this one was made of silk with a thin line of silver lining the hems of the entire uniform. On his left chest were small badges and emblems all that signified his rank as Commander and his status within Starfleet. Jim gave him props, the guy looked _good_.

During his observation of Spock's uniform, Spock had apparently been doing the same and narrowed his eyes slightly as he asked, "Why are you not in uniform?" Jim laughed at the question, because unless Vulcans had the ability to see through clothes and Spock was currently seeing Jim's body naked as a jaybird due to a malfunction with said ability, he was pretty certain he was in his uniform.

"Um, Spock, I hate to disagree with you, but I _am_ in uniform." To emphasize his point, he gave a small twirl in his crisp, red cadet uniform. After he retuned front and centre, Spock looked anything but amused. As a matter of fact, if Jim could translate stale Vulcan features directly into Standard, he was sure that Spock was saying something along the lines of 'you're an absolute idiot, aren't you'?

"You are in your cadet uniform." That was a big flippin' duh.

"Yes," Jim confirmed instead of opting for the actual 'duh' sound. "Yes, I am."

"That is the incorrect uniform for this event." Spock deadpanned. It was the only uniform he had besides his gold tunic for when he returned back to the _Enterprise._ How could it be incorrect?

Strictly in Spock fashion, he straightened his back and placed his hands behind him like he was still Jim's instructor and not his subordinate. "As much as I would like to partake in discussing uniform etiquette in the corridors, I believe it would be far more prudent to explain the customs to you in a closed environment."

Spock to Jim translation: _Let me in._

His body whipped to the side like a snapped rubber band as he remembered his manners and how he hadn't even asked Spock to come in yet. _Fuckery at it's finest_, he supposed while he asked him to enter. Spock hesitated, marginally, Jim would have missed it had he not been looking at him directly. Then the Commander allowed himself in, but didn't go any further than the entryway, like going any further was taboo or something. He was about to ask Spock to have a seat, but remembered from earlier how much of a convoluted ass he had been to tell him that he'd rather stand.

_Looks like we're standing._

"So," Jim began when it looked like their entire encounter was going to take place two feet from his door, "what's wrong with my uniform?" He wasn't quite sure what to make of the look on Spock's face because for a moment he felt like he was staring at a statute since Spock hadn't progressed any further to move or answer him. "That bad, huh?"

"Did Admiral Pike provide the necessary dress after your ceremonial promotion?" That question wasn't unrelated, but the way he implicated it made it seem like it came from the grassy knoll. Maybe it was just Jim, but Spock seemed a little more bothered now than he had earlier.

"You mean, did I get the gold tunic?" He ventured while simultaneous trying not to step on hypothetical toes.

"No." _bam_, looks like he stepped on them anyway. He fought the urge that told him to step back a foot or two. All he could see was the Commander's profile as he stood in front of him, clearly blocking him from stepping towards his living area and leaving him no way out but by his own front door.

Jim wasn't a Vulcan, he couldn't hide his emotions behind some front and hope for the best, so when Spock turned around and prompted a curious glance at him, he knew he looked either ready to fight or flee.

Spock minutely softened his appearance.

"He did not provide you with the data for the Starfleet official dress uniform?" It was scarcely noticeable, but his tone drifted into a deep, soothing baritone that calmed Jim's nerves. To anyone else, Spock would have appeared no different, but by the contact with Elder Spock and now his run-ins with his timeline's Spock, the difference (however subtle) was obvious. The fact that Spock had lightened his tone for the sake of the young Captain before him spoke volumes. Maybe Spock and he _were_ becoming friends.

Jim smiled, _this is good._ "I don't remember him giving me any data for something like that. I just figured he was meaning my cadet uniform."

"It seems illogical to 'figure' meanings, Captain. You could have asked him to clarify." Spock's eyes flicked once over his body, "Oh, right." he said with a complete turn on his heels and a smug look that Jim _totally_ wasn't imagining. It had been a completely Human-sounding phrase, but that wasn't what made Jim Kirk, the badass of all badassery, flush. It was the fact that he understood the hidden end of that sentence. That small 'Oh, right' had meant: 'Oh, right, you're James T. Kirk. How silly of me to think _you_ would ask for clarification like an _intelligent_ individual.'

Maybe Spock had a sense of humour after all. He knew his smile must have been at least a mile wide at that realization. _You smug bastard,_ Jim mentally chuckled.

"The uniform replicator is in your bedroom?" He asked as he caught up with him in the middle of the living quarters. He didn't think he really needed to say yes since all the clothing replicators were in the bedrooms (and Spock was just being polite by asking), but he said so anyway and both of them entered the small sleeping area.

He hadn't much time to unpack anything so the room was still bare and smelt of cleaning supplies. Jim thought it was a nice improvement from how his dorm used to smell like replicated nachos and sex. Note to self: Don't tell Spock that. _Ever_.

He followed Spock over to the uniform replicator as he programmed it for something it obviously was not programmed to do. His fingers moved gracefully over the data entry pad, quick, precise, just the kind of officer you'd want to serve on your starship. There wasn't another officer alive that was as efficient as Commander Spock—_and none who can look so poised doing it either._

It seemed it was going to take a while to properly program the replicator so Jim asked what he was adding. "It's a temporary file that will delete itself shortly after twenty-four hours." Spock told him while still entering the data, "The data is for your dress uniform. The one you will wear tonight for the Ball."

Jim couldn't contain himself, he laughed. Hard. The Vulcan stopped instantly and cocked his head to the side in a questioning manner. "Oh my god, Spock, the way it sounds coming from you, you make it sound like I'm Cinderella and you're my fairy godmother!" An eyebrow tilted.

"Cinderella, Captain?" Jim snickered lightly as his full laughter began to dissipate.

"Yeah, you know, Cinderella? Glass slippers? Ball? Something with pumpkins and singing rats?" The Commander turned back to his work swiftly.

"I can not say that I am familiar with those themes, but as you indicated 'singing rats', I am left to assume this is from one of your earth folk tales?" Jim switched glances between the replicator and Spock who looked about as serious as a Vulcan could get. Really? Spock had never heard of Cinderella before?

"Perhaps I'll have to sit down and tell you the story one day, Commander." He was hoping for some form of acknowledgement. If Spock agreed, then maybe Spock was considering his offer to be his First Officer? If he disagreed, maybe he wasn't? As it was, Spock didn't give an answer, or at least not an answer to clarify if they guy had seen the request or not.

"Folk tales are illogical." It sounded more serious than it actually was, but before Jim could offer a rebuttal, the replicator gave a small _ding_. The Commander opened the hatch and pulled out the folded material. He promptly handed it to Jim.

"Please put this uniform on as it is standard for most important Starfleet events." The fabric felt heavy in his hands as he noted that the material was silk. Oh great, _silk_, he was going to sweat like a pig in this thing, but Jim pushed the idea to the back of his mind as he took in the beauty of the actual uniform.

The tunic was a handsome golden colour, almost like the sun on a spring day. Along the seams where trims of a darker golden hem that led up to a tall collar. It came with black, silk slacks and a thin, white undershirt. Well, he might sweat his body into a coma, but at least he'd look damn good doing it.

"After you have dressed yourself, I will instruct you how to arrange your decorations accordingly." Jim nodded and left for his washroom.

Whoever thought silk was a fabulous material for tight-necked, high-hemmed uniforms seriously had something wrong with their head. He only just finished buttoning himself up when the heat hit him. What made matters worse was the fact that the tall collar was the equivalent of a thousand scratchy hells. _That_ was going to be hard to tolerate. He all of a sudden missed his cadet uniform, but then remembered his awesome gold tunic and how Captain that shit was and didn't care anymore.

The washroom door swished open as Jim walked out to retrieve his badges and awards that he had left on the small desk. When he didn't see them, he looked for Spock, who, not really to his surprise, was standing in front of an empty shelf in his living area. His back was to Jim, his hands tightly clasped behind him with the decorations in his palms. Spock didn't take him for a fidgeting type of guy, but it looked like the Vulcan was twiddling his badge of 'surpassed performance' between his index and thumb. It looked like he was staring at something but Jim didn't remember putting anything there. He was about to call for him, say that he was finished and to ask what Spock thought, when it hit him. Just over Spock's shoulder, Jim could see what he was looking at.

After Spock had left to let Jim get his speech on, he had taken out a picture of his of his father and mother and placed it on the shelf so before he went to bed, he'd remember to grab it and set it up beside himself. It was a very important photograph to him because it was all he had (all his family had) of the late George Kirk. Duplications could have been made of it, but his mother and Sam insisted that Jim have the only one. So in a weird sort of cosmic way, it was like his father was always with him and _only_ him.

His feet reacted before his brain did and soon he was right beside the Commander. His pale profile was a contrast to the shades on the wall beside him. The features on his face were unreadable, but stone-like nonetheless.

"Spock?"

Silence.

"This is your father." It was more of a quiet statement than a question.

"Yes." Jim nodded.

"And this," he inclined his head towards Winona Kirk, "this is your mother."

Jim nodded again. "Yes." Jim never really could thrive under tension. Pressure? yeah, but tension was another story. Reflexively, he reached out and folded the picture down. "I know, it's a silly picture," the Vulcan turned his head so quickly that Jim missed the whole thing and was instantly looking at Spock's face like it had popped from nowhere.

"I did not mean to imply—"

"Nah," Spock abruptly stopped, "I know what you meant." He really did and Spock didn't need to say anything more for Jim to know that they shared an equal balance of loss.

It was a bold move and Jim hadn't expected it, but his eyes fell onto Spock's hand as the Vulcan fingers reached out and brought the picture back upright. "You have a beautiful family." It was so quiet that Jim would have missed it had the room not been so silent. No more was spoken. Both of them just stared at the photograph. Anger, sadness, regret, sorrow completely filled Jim as he looked into the eyes of his father. They were pixels and couldn't possibly account for the real thing, Jim knew. Looking at Spock, he knew the guy must have been doing the exact opposite, looking at his mother and thinking of his own. She had been Human after all.

Jim turned away and placed a camaraderie hand on Spock's shoulder, throwing to the wind Vulcan touching taboos as he said, "_Had._"

"Excuse me?" Spock asked as the hand fell from his shoulder and Jim stepped away.

"I _had_ a beautiful family."

Silence.

"Captain," it was more than Jim could take. Seeing the soulless hurt (or lack thereof) in Spock's eyes, knowing that the man's mother had only passed a little over a week ago, still feeling the onslaught of guilt from the destruction of Vulcan, he couldn't stand it. He was James T. Kirk and James T. Kirk doesn't fall victim to shitty situations like these. He flipped around and faked his best smile, if for no one else's sake but Spock's. It was Jim's turn to evade.

"So, you gonna show me how to put my decorations on or are you gonna stand there all night?" He was ready for some Vulcan bullshit about how Jim was being illogical with his fleeting Human reactions, but none ever came. In fact, Spock seemed to straighten his back and appreciate the change of subjects.

"Of course." He hesitated, but it was a comfortable hesitation, "Allow me to assist you." Pain was something that everyone, even Vulcans, felt (even if they didn't want to admit to it). Illogical as it was, it was a cosmic constant. So to see Spock's features retract from their hollowed state to one of familiarity, well, Jim could only congratulate himself on spotting the difference simply because of his eyes and minor movements—either that or Spock's poker face had a huge crack in it. Jim was hoping it was the former. But, in the back of his mind, it wasn't unanticipated. Spock was, after all, a (half) Vulcan and had a strict image to live up to. Witnessing him change from a serious tone of painful remembrance to one of pure professionalism and uptight Vulcan 'go fuck yourself' demeanour was most admirable.

If it had been_ his_ planet.

Or _his_ mother.

He'd probably had leveled Romulus with his blind fury (and phaser canons) so fast that the supernova would find its devastation laughable compared to his. So in hindsight, Spock was a good role model when you wanted to control yourself and remember that a burden shared is a burden lifted, and he and Spock were definitely in the same boat. Nero was to thank for that shit-parade of unfortunate events.

_Fucktard Romulan ass from another dimension._

They entered the washroom, one after the other. _This isn't weird at all._ The washroom was the only room that had a mirror since Jim hadn't brought one with him. He looked at himself. Spock was right behind him, unclasping one of the hooks of the badges. After a few minutes of expressing placement, Spock handed over the decorations to let Jim set them accordingly.

It only took five minutes for the young Captain to screw that up.

"Captain," Jim was struggling with his third pin. The little fucker just wouldn't go through the shirt. "Captain," the call was calm, but a little louder than his first. He was ignored further as Jim twisted, thinking that maybe the velocity of his body's movements would somehow make that damn pin go through the damn fabric. "_Captain,_"

"_Fuck!_" Jim wailed as the pin went through too far and stuck him right in the breast. He pulled it back and the pin dropped right into the sink making a nice _clink_ as it sat and mocked the new Captain. It may have been inanimate, but it was laughing at him, Jim could feel it in his _soul._

"Captain?"

"_Yes,_"_ calm down, Jim,_ "Mr. Spock," Jim rubbed where he stabbed himself and sounded a little more than annoyed but clearly trying not to convey how exceptionally _painful_ that attempt had been, "What is it?"

"You have placed your decorations on, ah, _upside down_." Mirrors didn't lie as he saw that his shit-tastic talent for screwing up really didn't have an end. He laughed. He _had_ put them on upside down, and it, well, it was funny. He had never done something so stupid before. This posed a question to his inner sanity: What was making him so nervous and epically failing at the smallest of tasks?

His mind was suddenly set to warp factor three as alien fingers reached under his arms and wound around his chest as they took off the pins and began to replace them in their proper positions. The washroom was small but it began to feel even smaller as Spock approached him closer from the rear to give himself more room to move the decorations into place.

This was, by far, the closest he had ever been with the Commander.

His body heat seeped through his silken fabric with ease; he couldn't have stopped himself from blushing even if he wanted to (and he _wanted_ to). He watched in the mirror as Spock's eyes focused entirely on his task at hand, then he looked down at the delicate fingers. They moved as gracefully as Spock's eyebrows. Come to think of it, everything Spock did was graceful. He had never thought of the Vulcan quite like that before and hadn't any plans to do so. Jim Kirk was a lady-killer, a heart-breaker, a cocky son of a bitch who ended up in bar fights and drooling on the floor.

And yet, here was that same man, blushing.

_Blushing._

Oh, hell no.

Instinct made him grab Spock's wrists.

Realization made him release them.

"Mr. Spock," Pause. "I do believe I can handle it from here, thank you." His voice, most definitely, did _not_ squeak. The Vulcan retracted his hands with a formal nod, but when Jim looked down to finish, there had been no point. Spock had pinned them all. Even the one from the sink. The damned Vulcan even had time to align them perfectly so that his insignia was a straight 90º degrees with the left side of his body.

"Thank you." his voice more in a daze than he wanted it to sound.

"Shall we depart for the auditorium?" Spock posed innocently. Jim looked up at the reflection beside his. Had he overreacted? Was he the only one who found that encounter…odd? Then again, it wasn't everyday a non-touching Vulcan wrapped said non-touching hands around your chest to _do_ stuff for you. He felt his reaction was justified, but it still didn't make him feel any better about the _way_ Spock had chosen to touch him. In the line of duty, one was to expect needless bodily contact, and as a Captain that meant that he would probably be touched at least once a day by someone of his crew in an inappropriate manner, but something about Spock was different.

The touches weren't strange because they were from a Vulcan.

They were strange because they felt familiar.

_Spock_ felt familiar.

He pushed the thoughts aside. This was obviously more complicated than Jim preferably had time for. So what if the guy felt familiar? He had been told that he had shared a friendship of epic proportions with the Commander in another timeline, so who's to say these feelings weren't the natural strings of a friendship soon to come?

He dismissed the entire thing, and turned around so he wouldn't be talking to a reflection. "Let's go." It was meant more than to mean to the auditorium, and yet it was less than to mean to move forward on their friendship. They still hardly knew each other, but if there was one thing they had, it was time. And Jim appreciated every minute of it.

...

It was amazing what a little bit of love, caring, devoted Starfleet personnel and shit-load of money could do to change a small auditorium into a beautiful ballroom. The room had a soft, pink glow to it that really seemed to relax everyone and take the edge off of the whole 'we're mourning' thing. Whoever designed the place must have been really considerate of the situation because even though these people were supposed to be upset and sad on this night, everyone seemed happy and full of life. _My compliments to the genius who thought the bar was a good idea. Because…it is._

Jim and Spock had met with Admiral Pike at the door as Jim said he would. If Pike was at all surprised to see the Commander, he hardly showed it, but seemed pleased he came at all. He encouraged that Jim stay with Spock (more like demanded) wherever the party took them so any questions about the _Narada_ Crisis could be answered by both parties and not one individual who would look cocky.

Like Jim.

However, this isn't quite how it worked out. The moment they entered they became the centre of attention. Pike's notoriety got them the notice but afterwards the party-goers decided Spock and Jim were just so fantastic that they had to corner them and start up conversations about officers they didn't really know and receive thanks for things they didn't really do. Jim had done a good job of keeping Spock around him during this bombardment of praise, but somewhere between patting the back of a crying mother and saying 'no need for thanks' for the eleven-dy-hundreth time, he turned around to see that Spock was no longer with him. He didn't know how he knew he wasn't there, but something inside him panicked and made him stop mid-conversation just to look for the Vulcan.

He excused himself from the conversation, which ended up being harder than he thought, and began to look around for the missing Commander. Last time he saw him, he had been right behind him, back nearly pushed up against his as a family was asking about Spock's knowledge on Romulans. The auditorium wasn't really small, but with how many families in proportion to how many deaths, there were far too many people for such a room. He figured that Starfleet hadn't anticipated such a large outcome. So, since it was crowded, he had been squished between people his didn't know and Spock the moment they arrived. How the Commander had managed to wiggle away without Jim noticing until now was a mystery, but only determined his search.

He was maneuvering through the crowd and heading for the bar when reality slapped him in the face. Spock was a Vulcan. He may be half, but still a Vulcan and as a Vulcan that meant he was touch-telepath. Suddenly, Spock's disappearance made sense and so did Pike's 'encouragement' that they stay together. The crowds and onslaught of majority Humans must have been his idea of hell. And not to mention these people were _mourning._ Oh god, how could he have been so stupid not to remind people that hey, touch-telepath here, do not touch. Ever. Back it up, people!

Now he was in a panic. It wasn't to say that Humans were inconsiderate assholes who made it a hobby of theirs to make Vulcans uncomfortable (except Jim, but we all knew the reason for that), but since Spock was now a hero and a member of a endangered species, chances were that people were more interested in him now than they had been before.

He scanned the room, giving thanks and nodding to people who wrestled him into small conversation along the way but the Commander was no where to be found. During his trek, he missed the fact that Pike was still in a wheelchair and noticeably shorter than everyone else and hit his knee directly into the back of said wheelchair. He was about to shout a curse, but Pike turned himself with a smile and Jim stifled it the best he could behind a painful grin.

"Kirk! We were just talking about you." Pike told him with a little smirk.

"Oh," Jim let out the breath he was holding from his painful knee-to-wheelchair contact, "I can't imagine _why_."

"Don't get cute, boy," The older Admiral warned but still in good spirits. He looked around Jim for a second. "Where's Commander Spock? Didn't I tell you to stay together?" Oh shit.

"Well, _technically_ you didn't give a specific _distance_ on that whole 'staying together' part." Pike didn't look amused. It was that type of face a teacher gave you when they just found out you were the one who put tacks in their seat.

"You lost him. You lost the Vulcan, the one guy here who needs someone to keep these people off him and you lost him."

Jim gave a sheepish shrug, this wasn't really helping his panic trip. "'Lost' is such an irresponsible word, I'd like to think of it more as…" he thought for a moment, "misplaced."

"Damnit, Jim. You better find him." He emphasized it with a firm point. "Leaving him alone with all these people who don't really care about touching taboos right now is a bad idea."

"I know, Sir." But he wasn't entirely sure where to look. He was still searching. Pike gave a small sigh.

"Try the washrooms." Jim gave a curious glance. Why would Spock be in the washrooms? The Admiral must have read his mind. "When the Commander was a cadet here, his alien heritage was all the talk and people cornered him frequently. Mostly women." He gave a dark chuckle, "We often found him in the washrooms in a locked stall. He's probably there now doing his Vulcan 'cleansing' thing." That made sense. Not many people hung out in washrooms and it would be far more quiet there than anywhere else. That or Spock opted to leave the party entirely.

"Thank you." Jim told him and turned to leave, but Pike caught his arm to keep him there.

"I don't know what you did to convince him to come to a place where he'd be flooded on the physical level, but when you find him, don't lose him again. That's an order this time." Pike really cared about Spock, it was evident. Well, he had chosen the Commander to be his First Officer for a reason, they must have been close. It was also a bit of relief to know that he wasn't the only one having a panic trip over the guy.

"Understood." Now Jim felt like a real ass for not keeping a better eye on Spock, but Pike said something that stuck with him as he headed for the washrooms. Why had Spock willing decided to come to the event? He didn't beg him or demand that he show, and obviously the Commander knew that he'd be attacked by Human touching on the hellish degree, so why? _Logically_ there was no reason for Spock to come, though he was invited. So maybe there was an illogical reason?

No.

There _had_ to be a logical explanation.

He decided he was determined to find out that reason as soon as he found the missing Commander. The washrooms were all the way across the room and took him a lot longer to get to than he wanted, but finally he reached them and entered with the door swishing open and close promptly.

He looked around, the room was empty save for a few trashcans and a horrible odor that lingered. He leaned down to look under the stalls when he saw them: two black feet standing at the door to one of the stalls pointing towards the lavatory. Whoever it was, they were leaning against the door and those pristine looking shoes and silver lined silk slacks couldn't have belonged to just anybody. He approached the stall quickly and gave a small knock.

"Spock?" He ventured but received no response. "Spock, is that you? Are you okay?" Still no response and so he jiggled the handle while still calling for the Commander, which ended up being a bad idea. The door opened in the wrong direction (apparently broken) and out tumbled Spock with his eyes closed and fingers painfully pressed against his temples. Jim was lucky to have caught him.

It was then Jim could see that the Commander was not only doing some Vulcan ritual, but there was a greenish tint on his cheek. He pushed him up against the stall and tried not to touch him any further than he had to. He called his name several times before the dark pits of misery finally opened and the Vulcan was conscious to the world again.

"Captain?" He asked as he started to come to.

"You're an idiot." Jim said heatedly, not concealing his anger at all. That brought Spock back to full attention. He looked with his dark eyes, his mask perfectly in place as he stared at the Captain. For a brief second he wondered if this was how Spock looked when he first woke up. "Why did you come here if you knew this would happen? And what the hell happened to your cheek?" The Vulcan moved his glance from Jim to the mirror behind him, clearly looking at the mark on his face, and then he looked back.

"A minor disagreement." Spock offered, ignoring his first question. He was about to ask more and demand to know what happened, but then he remembered that the Commander and he weren't that epic friendship yet and so to demand more would almost be rude—then again, he was James T. Kirk and personal space was something he disregarded frequently. He opened his mouth, but another Vulcan dismissal bomb erupted.

"I came here for a minute need of solitude and now that I have completed my task, I shall return to the party. My apologies if I worried you, Captain. The magnitude of personal contact was simply too much at the moment. Shall we proceed?" It didn't look like any question he could ask was going to be answered. He looked again at the small green mark. It would be hidden among the pale, pink lights, but it bothered him. So he and Spock weren't comrades of a great friendship that could bring the house down, but they looked to be on their way and worry about each other was something friends did, right? He was going to attempt to ask Spock about it again, but the Commander had other plans. He turned, acting as if nothing had happened and began to exit the washroom.

Jim could only follow.

...

A/N – I am sorry this update took so long. I re-wrote this three or four times before I was satisfied. Another chapter will be here soon! Thank you to everyone who reviewed, story alerted and favourited this! And as an end note: What do _you_ think happened to Spock?


	3. Chapter 3

...

And following was something Jim did not take to easily.

It took every fiber of his being not to grasp Spock tightly by his shoulders, throw him against the nearest wall and demand the pointy-eared Vulcan to point out the sorry son of a bitch who was about to meet his white-knuckled fist. Jim knew that was his old, untrained, adolescent self talking, but damn if he didn't want to encourage it. Three years of Starfleet training had managed to compress his volatile need to lash out, but it didn't stop him from thinking it, even if his mind urged him to do otherwise.

Jim knew that if he was still a cadet, he might be able to get away with starting a brawl or causing a scene, but such actions were not befitting of a Captain and Jim didn't want to stain his freshly cleaned slate. Even if his intentions were ones of retribution, something told him that Spock wouldn't appreciate the gestures anyway. So he followed the Commander from the washroom with a heavy mind of all the things he wanted to do, but knew he couldn't, and grit his teeth thinking that the bastard who'd done it had gotten away. Despite the fact that Spock could probably level out the entire academy martial arts sector on his own, it bothered him to think that the Vulcan probably found it logical to forfeit an unnecessary quarrel and just take the hits as they came.

If it had been Jim, he knew Spock wouldn't have let _him_ leave a mark like that.

That fact made it all the more intolerable.

_Some bastard got a hit in that would have taken a few broken ribs for _me_ to get even nearly as close…_

With a heavy sigh, Jim quickly swat away the angry thoughts. He had no right to get defensive over Spock. If anything, he was only increasing his already established creepy-factor. Working with someone for two days and hanging out with them for a few hours didn't exactly constitute them as best friends. Even if they _had_ shared some rather personal moments that with any other individuals would have been awkward. Jim forced himself to remember that he wasn't Spock's keeper, he wasn't even his Captain, let alone his best friend at the moment. Things like that took time.

And apparently someone had already beaten him to that.

Jim had been mindlessly following Spock into the crowds as they were bombarded with yet more mourning and thanking families. The new young Captain had done his best to stay alert, but the thoughts of how stupid he was for loosing the Vulcan and how said stupidity was the result of Spock's 'minor disagreement' weighed heavy on him, so much that he (ironically) didn't notice Spock had managed to slip away again until he was no longer in sight. When he turned on his heels to find him, he was thankful and surprised (though he shouldn't have been) to see that the Commander had led himself to the only guy in the universe that could make a wheelchair look badass.

Jim was only a few steps behind, it wasn't like Spock had left him too far after, so he threaded his way through a few people and finally emerged on the other side to a chuckling Admiral Pike and a serene faced Commander. Both of them looked in his direction when he approached. It hit Jim like a brick that he felt like he was intruding on something, but he wasn't sure why.

"Kirk," Pike began, "I'm thankful you found the Commander. I was worried he had left entirely." Jim went to speak, but Spock cut him off.

"That is illogical, Admiral. No matter what complications I may encounter during the extent of these festivities, to simply 'walk out', as you Humans say, would be considered both rude and arrogant. Vulcans are neither." Jim found that ironic since it sure sounded like the Commander was being arrogant just now, but maybe that had only been Jim who thought that. Glancing at Pike to gauge his reaction, he saw that the older man had a half-smile on his lips, a warm glint in his eyes and a relaxed poise that Jim had only witnessed the older Admiral use when discussing something with a person he found attractive.

He glanced between them both and quickly noted that Spock appeared relaxed, way more relaxed than the Vulcan had seemed back in his temporary lodge. His brows weren't furrowed, the soft contours of his young face glowing in the pale pink lights, his eyes were their beautiful exotic chocolate colour. His hands were even loosely clasped behind him and not tightly wound like they typically were. He knew it was weird, but Jim felt like a third wheel, like he didn't fit into this picture at all. The graceful stare the two had fallen into seemed to be something more than Jim had ever witnessed. Pike never looked at _him_ like that. He understood that the Admiral and Spock were friends long before the new Captain had a chance to commit mutiny against the latter, but for some reason it unsettled him.

He was about to interrupt their locked eyes when he decided against it, putting a name to the feeling welling up in his stomach. Was Jim _jealous?_

Then it happened. The visual was fleeting, but Jim swore he saw a younger, handsome, brunette version of his Admiral Pike and beside him stood Spock, but not as he knew him. His eyebrows were heavily arched and he looked only a few years older than he was now, both of them adorning crisp gold tunics, standing close and familiar to each other. A smile on Pike's handsome face and a glint in Spock's eyes.

He blinked and it was gone.

But not entirely, the smile and the glint were still very much present. Then Pike reached his hand out, Spock evidently knew what he was intending to do and began to bend forward to give the Admiral better access from his limited position. The older, more experienced fingers were elegantly placed on the Vulcan's chin. It was a quick gesture, but Jim's mind played it in slow motion, making it seem more tender than it actually was. The fingers then turned the Commander's head to the side where Pike's gentle smile faded as he released him. Spock stood back up to his full height swiftly.

"Someone hit you." The Admiral accused without hesitation.

"A minor disa—"

"Don't give me that, Spock." It was the first time Pike had called him 'Spock' instead of 'Commander' during the conversation. Pike was all about formalities unless he wanted your attention. Spock stopped mid-sentence and closed his mouth, his form taking on the typical posture Jim had become familiar with.

"Who hit you?" He was waiting for it, the Vulcan dismissal bomb, but it never came. Instead, the Commander tightened the grip on his hands and faced forward like he was being reprimanded. He looked—if Jim was placing it right—uncomfortable. Like the room was suddenly too small and cold for him. When asked again, this time in a tone that Jim _knew_ was gentler than he had ever heard the Admiral ask someone before, Spock's features, however subtle, caved in. His stoic mask was visibly seen and though the two had an obvious friendship, it seemed just like with Jim, Spock wasn't interested in disclosing the information they were seeking. His eyes flicked from Admiral Pike to Jim several times, but not a word was spoken.

Pike wore that 'look'. It was like he had personally trained himself to look as condescending as possible in any given situation with a simple arrangement of his features. Jim held a lot of respect for the Admiral. He actually, in fact, liked Pike a lot like he would his own father if the guy had lived past his few minutes of his birth, but seeing Spock clearly struggle in his thoughts of whether or not he should tell the older man the information he sought and whether or not it would break regulations if he refused, Jim pitied him and stepped up in his defense. If he wanted to prove himself to the one guy he was hoping would accept his proposal to be his First Officer, then saving him from regulations was a pretty damn good method of persuasion in Jim's book.

In quick, Jim Kirk fashion, the young Captain reached into the inside of his dress uniform and pulled out the small index cards he had printed his speech on. He then held them out in front of the Commander who looked at them surprisingly, or as surprisingly as much as his Vulcan heritage would allow. "Mr. Spock, I was thinking my speech could use a little more critiquing before I go on. Would you care to go over it with me a few more times?" Jim knew he was being obvious as all hell, but Spock didn't seem to mind and helpfully added his own version of an acknowledgment as he told Jim that he agreed the speech could use a few more run throughs. When they turned back to the Admiral (who was no spring chicken and knew he was being dissed), his gaze was fixed upon Spock, but then he traded it for Jim. His eyes bounced between them suspiciously for a few more moments before he conceded to the situation with a heavy sigh.

"I won't keep you two." He offered with a small wave of his hands and a guarded glance at Jim. The young Captain wanted to study the Admiral's face further as he didn't understand why Pike suddenly looked like Jim had just stolen his ice cream, but the Admiral didn't give him any more time as he told Jim to make sure his speech was near perfect and bid them farewell with his half-smile. Spock and Jim both gave him a salute as he turned manually in his wheelchair. He was gone in a matter of seconds.

Jim wasn't stupid. He was bold, brash, sometimes unknowingly fastidious, but certainly not stupid. As he watched Admiral Pike disappear into the crowd, he quickly realized that he had evidently done something to offend his father-figure. It was '_what'_ that he was uncertain of. Feeling like he should say something now that his diversion had ran past its use, he turned to Spock and dared to question him about it.

"Did I interrupt something between you two?" Jim asked a little quieter than he thought he would. It was as though Spock knew he was going to ask and offered a rebuttal quickly and efficiently in true Vulcan fashion.

"Of course not, Captain." And that was that. If Jim had just met the Commander and didn't know that the guy was about as reserved as…well, a _Vulcan_, he would have kept prying, but he didn't. He knew Spock just a little bit. Possibly a little more now than he did before when he was a cadet under his teachings, and something in the back of his mind made him translate the stale Vulcan features now stretched over the Commander's face as poignant. Something was on his mind and it appeared to be more than just getting caught by the Admiral to have been struck.

He couldn't tell you why he did it, he knew touching was such a damn taboo to this species, but he reached out and placed a warm hand on Spock's nape, stroking lightly until his fingers settled nicely at the base of his uniform collar, and then he offered one of his most charming smiles. The Commander was quick to look up at him, perhaps out of reaction to the gesture.

"However illogical it may be, we only do it because we care about you." Spock didn't offer an answer or even a movement. He studied Jim with that look he often gave his dataPADD when he was grading an astonishingly high scored test. That was a funny analogy as Jim couldn't really think of a time he'd actually seen the Commander grading tests, but he felt like he had in a distant memory, so whatever the case, it was fitting.

He relinquished his hand, sighed with his huge smile still on his face, then he turned around and peered at the chronometre hanging above the small stage towards the back of the auditorium. Spock had apparently done the same thing.

"Your speech is in ten minutes." The Commander alerted in his monotone fashion. There was no stress in his timbre and that made Jim feel a little better about choice of action.

"Then I guess maybe I really _should_ go over my speech one last time." Jim teased.

"It would be beneficial, but unnecessary as we discussed the speech numerous times prior to our arrival." He paused for a beat and looked Jim right in the eye. "Thank you, Captain." Jim knew that he was thanking him for saving him from explaining his 'minor disagreement' to the Admiral, but hadn't expected to actually be thanked for it. He figured that 'thanks' would be illogical to Vulcans. Instead of showing an overly creepy blush for the unexpected gratitude, or being cocky and bastardly about it, Jim shrugged it off like he did that sort of thing all the time.

"Hey, you'd do the same for me." Eyebrow liftoff. It only took him a second to realize what he said and so the eyebrow made sense. He had no idea how he knew Spock would do the same for him, and perhaps he was gravely mistaken (strangulation good friends do not make), but something inside him made him feel like that was the right thing to say. Would his creepy-factor ever drop?

It seemed not as the blushing ensued anyway. "Do you feel feverish?" Spock asked immediately. Shit, he had been _caught_ too.

"Just nervous, Mr. Spock." Jim replied hastily. Quickly! Make another diversion! Anything to keep him from seeing how damn creepy you still are! "Want to go listen to me recite my speech one last time before I go on?" Damnit, still creepy, try a manly tactic, "We can take up two seats over by the mini bar since it's too early to get smashed and there's practically no one over there." They both turned to look at the small bar in the corner. Jim looked to make sure he had been right and there was no one over there, but the Commander looked like he was just noticing the bar for the first time. After a moment of observation, the Commander spoke.

"As it would do you no good to show even a slight amount of anxiety on stage," he turned and faced Jim in a pose that he knew, just _knew_ was smug in its own Vulcan way, "given your _well kept_ reputation, I shall oblige your request." He inclined his head and began off for the bar. Despite that Jim was frequently insulted on a daily basis and mostly from those who thought his world-saving ass was just a fluke, he was unprepared for his second playful jab from the stoic Commander. He stood there, a smile spreading across his lips as he realized that his ego just got burned in a completely okay way.

Friends they may not be, but understanding acquaintances they certainly were.

For the next ten minutes they sat at the bar and went over Jim's speech one last time in a manner that Jim would dare to call 'friendly' just as they had been prior to arriving. The young Captain tried to convince Spock that using some slang was good for Humans and completely logical to make them feel more at ease, but Spock kept turning down the notion, saying it was illogical as there were not only Humans here at the party and they might not appreciate terms they were not familiar with. In actuality, Jim was just doing it to get a rise out of the Vulcan, and somehow he figured that Spock knew this as he kept his cool the entire time. Then finally the time came, a young volunteered cadet came and told Jim that Admiral Barnett had just requested him to the stage and with one last look at Spock, a wink and a goofy grin, he told the Commander to wish him good luck.

Surprisingly, he did. "Good luck, Captain." A light blush flushed across his cheeks, but whether or not Spock had seen it was diverted as the cadet pulled Jim away, Spock's Vulcan visage fading as he disappeared into the crowd.

His smile was widening and didn't remove itself though it had plenty of time from the distance of one side of the auditorium to the other. He didn't even know he was still grinning like an idiot until he came face to face with Admiral Barnett who smiled in return and asked if Jim was excited. He nodded, not entirely lying as he was, but something made him feel incredibly warm inside. Logic told him it was the coming moment to touch some lives with a powerful speech, but his heart told him it was Spock's faith in him, however subtle that faith was. They were making progress. Perhaps the older Spock's past wasn't going to be so different from Jim's future after all.

Time would tell and Jim knew this wasn't the time to think of such things (since it was too early to really determine if subtle faith was going to lead to an epic friendship), so grasping his speech cards and readying himself for the charismatic words, he stood off to the side as he watched other Admirals and Captains line up as Admiral Barnett turned on the microphone and gathered everyone's attention.

Since these individuals were families and not entirely Starfleet personnel, it took a little bit longer to gather everyone's attention than it would have if they were all trained officers. Barnett didn't look like he had a patient bone in his body, but he simply smiled into the bright stage light as the heads turned and the whispers shushed. Though the festivities had been going on for a little over an hour now, the higher-ups wanted to give everyone a time allowance before the ceremony really began. Even given this time allot, Jim could still see from the side of the stage that people were still just arriving, some looking more rushed than in mourning.

When the attention was thoroughly grasped and the whispers a bare minimum, Barnett took up the small podium, cleared his throat and began.

"Ladies, Gentlemen, and all those of our world and not; it is with great respect and grief that I stand before you tonight on such a grim occasion. We are not only here to grieve for lost officers, but for loved ones who served as admirably as they could in the face of such perils. But need not their deaths be in vain…" Barnett continued for another five minutes, really highlighting the crowd with his powerful opening speech. Some mothers began their sobbing while fathers mourned in utter silence. It truly was moving. Jim felt a single tear stinging his eye as the opening speech tugged at their hearts in reminder of the depressing event. Then as he went to close, the Admiral held his hand out to the left of the stage where Jim stood waiting beside other officers, and made his closing.

"Without further ado, I give you the newly promoted Captain, saviour of Earth, Captain James Kirk who has prepared a speech in the honour of our fallen family to officially open this ceremony." Clapping resounded as the faces of the crowd turned towards Jim. The sudden focus crushed his confidence instantly as the scrutiny urged him forward. The officers and Admirals all pat him on the back as he passed, really doing nothing for his self-assurance. Jim was a man of action, a go-getter who often looked at death and spit in his coffee, but put on the spot, Jim was as nervous as a fledgling and hadn't anticipated he'd react this way since he figured his new position would give him some form of self-esteem.

Mustering up all the strength he could, he ignored the growing pit of anxiety in his stomach and approached the podium. Admiral Barnett was quick to move aside as the clapping subsided and Jim stood full figure in front of the audience. The new Captain had given speeches before, once in Spock's lecture class even, and _that_ hadn't really gone well. He was better at winging it than doing anything by the book, so as you can imagine, Jim was a little shaky and uncharacteristically nervous that he'd stumble across his prepared speech. This speech was important, these people were waiting for him and the man who saved their fucking planet was _tongue-tied._ If he couldn't represent their strength, what good was it that he wrote a speech at all?

He reached into his uniform and pulled out the speech cards less gracefully than he intended. He sat them on the podium, shuffled his feet, and glanced at the first few words. The speech was beautiful, everything Starfleet wanted to convey and yet Jim couldn't bring himself to begin. Why was he so nervous?

_Save a planet, fuck a speech,_ he mused bitterly.

Just as he was about to force himself to begin, his mouth ready to expel the first sentence, he stopped abruptly as he heard footsteps ascending the stairs to his left. The room had fallen so quiet that each step was as loud as Jim's heart in his ears. They all turned instinctively and though Jim shouldn't have been surprised, he was.

It was Spock.

The tall, black figure glanced at him knowingly, inclined his head slightly, then took up a place right beside Admiral Pike who had been sitting behind him with other Admirals. He rested a pale hand on the handle of Pike's wheelchair, stood with poise, and Jim smiled. The two most important determining factors of his life were now standing behind him, urging him forward in the escaped confidence. Pike smiled back, Spock's eyes glinted, Jim felt renewed.

Spock arriving in that moment reminded Jim of all the shit they went through to reach this point. That 'minor disagreements' didn't matter, that it was the heart of the people they had grown to call friends and family that were the most important. Vulcan may have been gone, and Nero too, but they were still alive. Still here.

These people needed a hero to remind them of that.

He turned to the crowd who had been waiting patiently for him to begin, flashed a large lop-sided grin and peered down at his cards. "We are gathered here today to mourn the losses of many great men, women, and third-genders alike." His voice was strong, he didn't know he could sound so commanding while giving a speech. He continued, but noticed that the faces around him looked enlightened, but not entirely as confident as he now felt. He spoke the first paragraph with ease, the words beautiful, but in a split second Jim realized why he had been so nervous. These words were rehearsed, practiced symbols of Starfleet, they weren't really his. These people didn't need to hear what they had heard a million times over since the _Narada Crisis_ had ended, but needed the words of a new age, of new understanding. He turned back and glanced at Pike and Spock for only an instant, then he faced the crowd again, brimming with his own ego.

He looked back down to the speech cards then—threw them aside.

The act elicited some gasps as the cards were followed to the floor, and even some raised eyebrows (one of them Vulcan), but it didn't discourage him. He leaned forward on to the podium, relaxed himself as the past breezed by in his thoughts, then he laughed.

"I know this is going to be one hell of a shocker," he joked clearly into the microphone, "but, I don't really like following protocol." He told them coolly. The sudden statement got him a few chuckles. He continued. "You know what? I never really liked the idea of planning speeches and I also don't think written words are enough here." A small fire of interest bloomed over the crowd. Whispers began.

Jim took the microphone off the podium and began walking around the stage like he did this sort of bat-shit crazy, non-protocol shit all the time. Which wasn't _too far_ from the truth. His stride was aloof, the figures around him switching glances as they hadn't expected this sort of behaviour—though, this was _Jim Kirk_ they were dealing with and should have known better.

He chuckled lightly and shot a glimpse at Spock, happy to see the Vulcan was watching him, "What that…_fucktard Roumlan ass of another dimension_ did, was wrong." Few gasps were heard and Admiral Barnett opened his eyes wide to Jim as if to warn him not to say such things in public. Jim ignored all stares. "But, should we _hate_ Captain Nero for it? Should we _despise_ the Romulans for such an act?" He stopped for a beat to take in the confused and some speculative faces in the audience. "Well, the answer you're looking for is 'no'." He punctuated. "We're not only here to grieve our own losses, people, but we're also here to grieve the losses we could not prevent." Subconsciously, and unknowing to the crowd, Jim wasn't only referring to the destruction of Vulcan, but also the 'minor disagreement' he failed to prevent for Spock.

"The people of Romulus should be grieved for their now scrutinized planet. Vulcan should be grieved for not only their substantial loss, but their advancements that will now be postponed that could have saved future lives and now may come too late. To solely focus on our own losses is selfish. We are _Starfleet officers!_" He slammed his fist into the podium as he past it, grabbing anyone's attention he hadn't grabbed yet. "We knew the risks before we made our oath. So let this not be a day to lament over the deaths, but to celebrate the heart—the _heart_ of Starfleet and all the individuals that make it possible to live another day! To let another sun rise, _somehwere_! To bring forth acceptance and to abolish the _bigotry_ that separated our planet from others for far too long!" The crowd began to roar and clap as he stride across the stage in full blown ego. This was the kind of thing Jim _thrived_ on. Then as the crowd settled down, the higher-ups obviously making note that Jim's outbursts were being taken differently than they thought. He settled himself back at the podium, leaned over and sighed.

He began in a much quieter tone than before, bringing back the seriousness of the situation. "A starship can fly; A starship can _fight_;" he sighed, "but it is _nothing_ without the strong officers that operate her. For what is a ship without her crew?" Heads nodded, some tears streaming down faces from the emotion of the moment and Jim decided to end his speech there. "We have lost many lives, but we have gained so much in their place—in their honour. So do not suffer tonight over your loved ones, but praise them, celebrate them for fulfilling their duties and doing them admirably." He paused for a beat. "For just as a starship is nothing without her crew…so is a _Captain_." Here he lowered his head, placed the mic back into its place at the podium and walked gently away from the stage, completely satisfied in his execution and kick-ass exit.

Clapping roared, cheers bellowed and Jim let himself smile knowing that he had just recited every thing in his heart and had meant every word. He walked up to Spock and Pike (the Admiral looking very impressed) and saluted. Admiral Barnett took up the podium again to announce the Ball officially open and the lights were returned to normal. As the stage was clearing, many passed Jim and congratulated him and thanked him again for the speech. It was a wonderful feeling.

Pike had that smile again, the previous events that made him storm off now completely forgotten as he nodded his head and said, "You did good, Captain."

Feeling his usual demneaour making a red-line for his mouth he replied. "I know, aren't I just fantastic?" A half-usable leg kicked Jim square in the shin. Jim cursed on contact.

"Don't get a swelled head, kid," Pike said with a smile, "but that speech really was beautiful."

"Thank you, Sir." Jim said with his own smile, happy that he could make the man proud and feeling good to be on warm terms with Admiral Pike again. A warm air brushed over his right side that made him turn. The Commander stood beside him stiffly and inclined his head as if to suggest a smile.

"Though it was not originally what we had written, I commemorate you on your tactful wit and public speaking abilities. The speech was adequate." Jim snickered and rolled his eyes as he looked back to Pike.

"Did you hear that? I'm _adequate._" He mocked with a gesture towards himself. It was good to feel alive again. Then he remembered how nervous he had felt before and just as Spock had done to him, he paused for a beat and looked the Vulcan in the eye as he said, "Thank you, Mr. Spock." The glint in the Commander's eye told Jim that he knew he was thanking him for the added strength and just as Jim had done for him, he inclined his head, lifted a brow in mock annoyance as he offered a reply.

"You would do the same for me." Jim smiled.

And blushed. _Maybe not so gravely mistaken after all?_

If Pike had noticed it, he didn't comment on it as he quickly diverted the subject from whatever was happening between the Captain and Commander (and Jim wondered _too,_ what was happening), "Well, Barnett chose well to have you open the ceremony, Kirk. The party is now in full swing. You and Commander Spock are allowed to stay or go if you so choose. After all, I'd hate for our dear Vulcan to feel even _more_ overwhelmed now that you've spread your ego like the damn plague." Jim snickered in mock agitation as it was true that the people around them seemed livelier. Then, he turned back to Spock who appeared to be taking Pike's advice for consideration. When he didn't voice whether or not he wanted to stay (and since Spock was _technically_ Jim's guest), he questioned him out loud if he'd rather stay or go.

The Admirals and officers had been slowly leaving the stage since Jim's closing, and in that moment, a cadet, who was chasing after an Admiral, had accidentally bumped into Spock, shoving him forward and making Jim react on reflex as he caught the Commander by his shoulders.

Since Spock was taller than him, their faces were now dangerously close. Spock's chocolate stare now boring into his oceanic tides. Remembering the whole 'no-touchy' thing, Jim ignored the urge to blush very _very_ hard and awkwardly stood Spock upright before he released him.

Spock didn't appear to be immune from the gesture either as a small green flush appeared at the tips of his ears as he said, not looking at Jim, "Perhaps it would be wise to excuse myself from the festivities before any further contact is forced upon my person." As much as Jim wanted to say it was him catching Spock that made the Vulcan suddenly look so shy, he felt that was too pompous of an attitude as the Vulcan was a touch telepath and probably felt something from that cadet he didn't really want to know. Tossing the awkwardness aside, he agreed to the Commander's logic and saluted Admiral Pike before they began for the exit.

Pike nodded, switching glances between the Commander and Jim again, and waved them off, another cadet taking up Pike's wheelchair handles to push him off in the opposite direction. As they walked in the same stride, Jim looked over at the Commander and his stoic features—he blinked—saw for an instant the Vulcan a little older and in a blue science uniform, and he felt incredibly right at home—then he blinked again and it was gone. The sudden image made him stop dead in his tracks and so quickly that Spock was a few steps ahead of him before he halt.

"Captain?" Spock asked. Jim smiled, not really knowing what to say as this phenomenon had happened several times now and he wasn't quite sure what it was, but figuring it was just the stress from saving a planet and dealing with the after-effects, he told the Commander he was fine and they continued.

The cool air of the outdoors felt wonderful against Jim's heated skin. It was a nice change since the dress uniform was about as comfortable as a wool sweater in hell. It was dark out and the streetlights illuminated most of the scenery as he and Spock walked particularly nowhere. The sky above them was clear, the single moon full as the stars twinkled in the distance. No matter how much time he had spent in space (which was limited to about two days), he still found those distant suns gorgeous and unattainable as he did as a child.

He was gazing in no particular direction when suddenly a slender, dark arm and a pale hand appeared beside his head and it pointed in a specific direction, making Jim turn his gaze towards a light, flickering star.

"40 Eridani A." Spock said in his monotone. "It is approximately 16.45 light-years from Earth." His pale hand dropped as the Commander went rigid beside him, both of them gazing at the mentioned star. At first, Jim didn't know why Spock had pointed out such a specific sun—when it hit him.

"That is the sun of Vulcan." Jim said lowly, glad he remembered the name from his astronomy class and yet saddened at the same time. Spock offered no reply for what felt like an eternity as they both continued to stare.

"_Was_." Spock finally said in the silence, and Jim looked up at him, not saying anything, only looking at those orbs which had glowed a perfect dark chocolate only moments ago and were now as black as the void that swallowed Vulcan whole. "It _was_ the sun of Vulcan." The Commander added.

A sudden wind blew. It felt really nice to Jim, like a breeze in Iowa, but he noticed quickly that Spock gave a subtle shudder in his shoulders and he quickly remembered that Vulcans had higher body temperatures, thus were proned to getting cold easier. He watched Spock still his movements, controlling them in his true fashion as he continued to stare out into the blackness. The chill and the absence of Vulcan must have weighed heavy on him. He had to have been thinking of his mother, Jim thought, and the moment just seemed right for Jim's better-late-than-never apology.

"Spock," Jim began, leaving off 'mister' to convey the seriousness he wanted. The Commander turned obligingly, inclining his head to let Jim know he had his full attention. "I'm sorry. About what I did…on the Bridge. To you. I know you loved—"

"Apology accepted."

Silence.

Jim shut up immediately and looked over the stiff figure before him. "But," He tried again, but Spock lifted his palm in a motion of silence.

"You did what was necessary. I can not hold you at fault for doing what was logical." He gave a small sigh, though Jim knew he'd deny it if he called him out on it, "I was…emotionally compromised. You did what was best for Starfleet, the _Enterprise_ and her crew. This is why you were given the promotion." Even when the Vulcan said it like that, the words still felt empty.

Yeah, so he got the promotion. Yeah, so he was given praise and notoriety. But it just felt a little more empty than it had to be. Then his heart lurched and Jim knew why it felt that way. Elder Spock said they were the most epic friendship of all time, the mind-meld had given him a little insight into that while learning of Elder Spock's predicament. He knew this, Elder Spock knew this, but did Spock? Did Spock know this? What was missing was this Vulcan, at his side and on his crew. To hell with bad beginnings as this was something Jim knew was right. The universe was out of order and it was now his job to put it back.

Gathering the words in his head, he turned to the Commander and looked up into his eyes as he said, "Spock, will you do me the honour and become my First—"

Spock cut him off quickly, "Captain, would you care to have lunch with me tomorrow?"

Well, Jim stopped mid-breath, flabbergasted at the sudden question. Had Spock even heard what he was about to ask? A million questions ran through his head at once, but finally he settled that Spock hadn't heard him as the question had been rather low timbre than his typical mood and possibly this was another Vulcan dismissal bomb? He tried not to think of the latter and instead focused on the former. The Vulcan, however elusive the species may be, would outright tell you no if they were not interested in a certain position. Still, the Commander heavily stared at him waiting for an answer to his own question. Jim took it.

"Um," he started and was about to agree when he realized that he didn't want to seem too enthusiastic over spending time with a new friend. The last thing he wanted was Spock to think he was a lonely Captain (and he kinda was since Bones decided to take his leave elsewhere). It was a sad fact that Bones was his only friend. He shuffled his feet for a moment, then smiled, sighed and shook his head. "Sorry, Mr. Spock, I have some things to run tomorrow afternoon." It wasn't a _complete _lie, but Spock diverted his gaze and placed his hands swiftly behind his back in a tight clasp, like he was trying to tell Jim he was a fool for thinking Jim would want to spend more time with him.

And now for the kill.

"I understand." Spock offered and turned away as if to say goodnight, but then Jim grasped his shoulder, turned him around and flashed his best smile and friendliest manners.

"But—" Jim spoke with a large grin, "—I will be available for dinner tomorrow. That is," he released his shoulders and stood firmly, "if you'll join me." Spock didn't move, didn't inclined his head, hell the guy didn't even look like he was thinking. His eyes flashed something Jim didn't understand and his shoulder relaxed a mere millimetre or so. Then Spock dipped his head, but not in the good way.

"I am sorry to inform you that I have scheduled a project to continue tomorrow evening." Now it was Jim's turn to look remotely let down.

"Oh," he said with a slight shrug, "that's okay, I guess. Maybe some other time?" He faked a smile trying to hide his disappointment in his stupidity for not taking the first offer.

"I suppose," Spock interrupted when Jim was about to babble on some more like an idiot about how it was okay and it didn't really matter, "my colleagues will be able to run the project without me…just this once." Jim stared, completely taken aback by the sentence. He actually had to think about it before it settled in his mind that Spock was dissing his colleagues to have dinner with him. Twenty seconds later his voice came back.

"Well, you know, I don't want to intrude or interrupt—"

"Captain, I would like to have dinner with you."

"Okay then, see you at 20:00." The exchange of words and agreement had happened so fast that Jim didn't even know he had just made dinner plans with his potential First officer until they had already nodded apart, said goodnight, and Jim was half-way back to his temporary lodge.

As he walked briskly, not sure why his heart was pounding in his chest like a schoolgirl who just got asked out by her crush, he was amazed at how smoothly everything had gone. He hadn't anticipated this outcome of the evening and surely this situation left more questions to boggle around in his mind for the rest of the night. He felt good, and in an entirely different way than his usual good moods. Back when they had broken free from the black hole of Roumlan doom, he felt an amazing boost then, but who knew hanging out with a Vulcan (who, might he remind you that this same Vulcan tried to _kill_ him) would cause the same feeling?

Jim had to admit that this scene was much different from how they began their shore leave. He still remembered how cold the Commander had been to him before they beamed down and now taking in his twist of personality and the strange warm feelings was unexpected. Why was Spock actually giving him the time of day and acting so _kind? _There really wasn't any logical explanation to it, and this was odd since he was talking about a _Vulcan_. No matter how many times he thought about it, it just didn't add up. Enemies one moment, to leading friendship the next? Jim was missing something and though he wanted his answers now, he knew he'd have to wait it out. As said before, things like this took time and Jim had a lot of time.

Or not really, as his shore leave was ending in two weeks.

...

A/N – I. Am. So. Sorry. I didn't think this chapter would take so long, but it did. I hope the wait didn't deter you too much! Hopefully, the next chapter will be here soon. Feedback is not expected, but always welcomed (and the feedback I've gotten already has been awesome! You gaiz really know how to make a poor writer feel loved!) Until next time. 8D


	4. Chapter 4

A/N – ***Rivers** (used in typography) - visually unattractive gaps appearing to run down a paragraph of text, due to an accidental alignment of spaces.

...

Though Jim had really _really_ wanted to take Spock up on his lunch offer, in actuality, he really did have afternoon plans. Since he was Captain now, that meant he had responsibilities and just like anyone with responsibilities, that meant he had to _do_ stuff. In particular, he had to send out forms and requests and fill out the paperwork for his upcoming crew. Most would be staying, but he could make formal requests for certain officers.

He undoubtedly was already in love with his Bridge crew. Uhura was the best damn linguistics officer Starfleet had to offer, and Sulu? Best damn pilot ever. Chekov, well, he was about as cute as a lamb trotting through a field of cotton candy, but the boy had navigational skills, tactic and a memory that could rival Spock. Then of course there was Bones who he wouldn't serve without. That was the only man in the universe who knew how to stitch him up right and Jim just _knew_ he was going to need some future stitches with _his_ track record. Then there was Scotty. Jim had met the guy on Delta Vega and though his name was hardly mentioned (due to an admiral still being pissed about a certain beagle) there was no doubt that the guy would very well fuck the engines if given the chance and the appropriate safety equipment. His knowledge in starships just couldn't be rivaled, so he was staying for sure, if Scotty agreed to his formal request. But all these individuals were well and filled except one.

First Officer.

It was at least his third formal request as he typed in the name 'Lieutenant-Commander Spock' with a subject header written in bold reading 'URGENT'. As badly as he wanted the Commander to be his First Officer, he didn't want to really push it on him (and he _really_ held himself back from hitting carbon copy several times to the same damn academy message address). If Spock had other plans, then he wouldn't stand in his way, but damnit if he wouldn't try.

But, wants more than needs aside, for a good portion of the afternoon Jim filled out requests for certain positions and read the recommendations from other high-ranked officers. In the end, he wouldn't have to choose them all, Starfleet would handle most of it, but this was more of an opportunity to let Jim hand pick his crew out of the many newbies and oldies of the Starfleet nursery than shove unwanted officers down his throat. If this upcoming five year mission was going to go smoothly, then Jim needed a dependable crew, not one he would pick fights with (which meant Jim was picking a damn good majority of them).

No one had expected him to do this during his shore leave, but just so you know, hacking the damn _Kobayashi Maru_ had taken exactly three months to figure out and comprehend before he could accurately and safely hack into the system. He may have been a bit of a cheater (Jim liked to call himself an over-achiever), but he most certainly proved he was a dedicated, if not a potential responsible person. If he was going to prove to anyone he was command material, doing your duties when you should be slacking off was a good way to tell them to suck your dick without actually having to voice it and stuff like that, though, Jim _was_ partial to the idea of writing up his formal reports in such a way that the rivers* in the text would form a nice 'fuck you' gesture when gazed from afar, just in case the 'suck my dick' wasn't enough of an oblique burn.

All thoughts aside, some of them more treacherous and cruelly playful than the last, Jim snickered quietly to himself as the last request form was filled. Jim knew he could send the data to the higher-ups via message transmission, but why go through all the hassle and potential Starfleet excuse of 'we didn't get it'? Looking at his full dataPADD, he stood up from his tiny desk in the entryway and decided he'd take a walk to Admiral Pike's office and deliver the data personally.

He could actually send the data to any Admiral he wanted to. Admiral Nogura would get it anyway, no matter whom he chose, but Jim still felt a little off about Pike's strange behaviour at the Memorial Ball. He kind of wanted to talk to him about it, make sure everything was good and all between them. The older, handicapped badass might have enjoyed his speech, but there was still some obvious tension in the air when he subtly told Jim to get Spock the hell out of there before he lost him again. In addition, the memory of Pike's fingers gracefully caressing Spock's chin sat like a pregnant pressure in his thoughts. When he thought about it, the Admiral really had no reason to touch the Commander like that, and it was only afterward that he discovered the faint mark on the Vulcan's cheek. Given the lighting, no one should have seen it, so either Pike had gotten super-crazy-awesome vision in compensation for loosing the majority of functionality in his legs, or Pike had a different intention before he noticed the mark.

Thoughts of that nature didn't last long as Jim dismissed his overly creepy attitude about it as natural protectiveness about a Vulcan he just happened to serve with in a life or death situation of grand proportions. Though, then Jim had to wonder why he was feeling like being protective at all. He figured it had just been the resentment towards himself for letting Spock get hurt on his watch, but something else, like a small flute playing in a large orchestra, was barely heard above the noise and tugged at his heart. If there was another reason, Jim could hardly sense it. So, he didn't try.

The halls were empty.

It was late in the afternoon and most classes were over by four o' clock. Jim felt a tiny pang of sorrow as he listened to his footsteps echo around him, his dark black uniform (the one the higher-ups wore, including Spock) blending into the stale grey scenery around him. Everyone was probably in the academy mess right now getting their dinners and late lunches, so it didn't really surprise him that he didn't see anyone.

As he rounded a corner, Pike's office being just six doors down, he collided into a very large individual. On impact, and Jim being the smaller of the two, they tumbled backwards with Jim hitting the floor harshly.

"Watch where the fuck you're going!" A brash, deep voice thundered. Slightly dazed, Jim looked up into the face of a cadet he wasn't familiar with. He may have looked overweight to some people, but Jim knew from colliding into him that he was all muscle. His hair was in a strict crew-cut, his eyes a piercing brown that some women may have found attractive, and his face was clean shaven against his dark, black skin. If he hadn't been wearing a cadet uniform, Jim knew he would have mistaken him for a wrestler. He probably was.

Jim lifted himself from the floor and dusted himself off. "Sorry." Jim told him, but the large cadet ignored him, muttered some curses under his breath and stormed off down the hall. His heavy footsteps echoed louder than his puny equivalents.

_Note to self: try to refrain from pissing off guys that could eat you._

Ignoring the minor scuffle, Jim finished his trip and approached Pike's office. He rang the buzzer once. A muffled voice inside told him to come in, so he did.

Pike was sitting at his desk, the desk having been remodeled so he could slip in and out from behind it easily in his wheelchair. He had on a small pair of reading glasses which on the older man's face made him look more intelligent and perhaps a bit more attractive, but they were quickly discarded when he saw Jim. In the back of his mind, Jim was relieved to know that he wasn't the only one afraid of the optional eye-surgery Starfleet offered to correct impaired vision.

"Kirk," Pike started, "what can I do for you?" He looked busy. DataPADDS were all strewn about his desk, styluses were just about everywhere too, and then there were a few traditional papers lying about with one ink pen resting on top of a small stack. He felt a little bad for coming in there when the man obviously had a lot to do, but then he sighed, said to himself he was already here, and held out his dataPADD for the Admiral to take. Pike took it promptly and looked it over. His eyes only widened for a second before he set it down and glanced in Jim's direction.

"These are all you crew requests." Well, duh, Jim thought, he had kinda spent most of the day filling them out, he didn't need a reminder. "You finished them early. We weren't expecting requests from you for about another week, or three days before your commission. Or three hours."

Jim snickered. "Hey, I was tried for being a hacker, not a procrastinator." Pike gestured at the dataPADD.

"Well, I can certainly say that a trial based on that falsehood would rule in your favour easily. I'm impressed, Kirk. Does the academy not have enough for you to do?"

"Nah, there's plenty to do, just not enough time to do it all. Besides, I figured if I finished these reports early I'd have more time to spend with my friends." Pike's brow rose suggestively.

"You mean Commander Spock, don't you?" The sentence was more patronizing than Jim would have liked, but it was an opening into the real conversation Jim wanted.

"Yeah, sort of." Jim said in a way as though he and the Commander were best of pals and whether or not they hung out together was not really an issue. "I'm hoping of spending just a little more time with him to convince him to be my First Officer. He may have been emotionally compromised, but the guy is a great officer. I feel we could really make a great team with his logic pitted against my illogic." Pike didn't offer a reply but gave a small sigh and moved Jim's dataPADD aside. The Admiral took on an air of seriousness that the new Captain didn't quite understand. It was another minute before anyone spoke.

"Jim, I don't know if you've been told, but Starfleet has organized many projects to help preserve the Vulcan species. The number to date is only 11,726 Vulcans survived the Battle of Vulcan. I'm overseeing a lot of these projects and I want Commander Spock to be my aide." Jim's heart sank for only a moment. "He told me prior to your promotion that he was interested in helping his species. If he's changed his mind, I haven't been told, but as far as I know, he doesn't plan on serving on a starship. When I told him of the upcoming projects, he said he was considering my request for him as an aide, but I would rather his judgment not be hindered by a dual request for him as a First Officer." Jim remained quiet, thinking about what Pike was telling him. His gaze drifted, but Pike brought him back with a huff.

"Listen, Captain Kirk," Jim looked up, "Spock has lost everything. His people need him. Will you really deny him the opportunity to be with the only family he has left?" Jim had heard enough, and though he knew it was rude and was a possibly offensive enough to be discharged for, Jim stood and looked the Admiral square in the eyes.

"I beg your pardon, Admiral Pike, but it isn't my duty to decide whether or not Spock should serve with a starship or serve as an aide in a recovery program. I have submitted my request and should Commander Spock determine he'd rather stay planet-side and help his people, it will be his own choice. But I _want_ him as my First Officer just as you _want_ him as your aide." Pike stared at him but gave nothing away if he was offended or not. "Instead of bartering for his services, why don't we just let him decide when he sees the requests?"

Pike offered a small nod. "I concede to you, Kirk." He said at length. "We'll let Spock decide who is more worthy of his services." It was a challenge, and a playful one at that. Pike smiled daringly at Jim and he smiled bravely back. Their mutual respect kept them from harboring any hate towards the other, but this Battle of _the_ Vulcan was going to be interesting. Spock was as loyal to Admiral Pike as he was to his own studies. Jim barely knew him and though he stood less of a chance against the evident friendship the Admiral and the Commander had, Jim wouldn't sit out of the fight. If Pike wanted Spock, then he was going to have to go through bullshit Starfleet regulations the same damn way Jim had to.

Heading for the door, Jim stopped before he exited, gave a salute and said, "May the best man win." Before Pike could offer a rebuttal or witty remark, Jim was gone, pleased with the outrageous odds against him because that would just make victory taste all the more sweeter should he beat Pike at his own loyalty game. He didn't see it, but Pike sat at his desk with a smile, accepting Jim's challenge.

It was getting later by the minute. If he really wanted to make his dinner plans, then he knew he'd have to head back and shower now before he'd be cutting it close. He wasn't nervous, a little skittish maybe, but definitely not nervous as that would imply that Spock made him nervous and Jim just wasn't down for that.

His lodge wasn't too far away and after crossing through the courtyard he would be in the temporary lodge building where he could begin his hygiene routine. Of course, Jim didn't know he wouldn't make it that far.

Just before he reached the doors that led to the courtyard, he heard muffled talking and heated words being slung around a nearby corner. If what Jim thought was accurate, it sounded like a small fight was taking place. Starfleet Academy did not approve of brawls, which when Jim first got there got him in a lot of trouble and nearly discharged six times had Admiral Pike at the time not bailed him out. Now that he was a Captain, he had the authority to stop brawls just as much as Pike did, so he decided to go and shut it down before anything escalated.

_Worst. Decision. Ever._

Just as Jim rounded the corner, he saw the exact same bulky cadet that he had collided with earlier. His body was obscuring whoever he was intimidating, but Jim was quick to their aid. "Hey!" Jim shouted in his command voice as he approached them, "I would cite regulation against this but I'm pretty damn certain you already know them and would disregard them anyway." Then he saw it, the other person the cadet was bullying and it just so happened to be his dinner date.

"Captain," Spock said in his usual tone though the cadet had a large fist balled in his black uniform attire, "I have already cited regulation, and found that your initial assumption is accurate."

"Shut you damn mouth!" The cadet growled and threw his fist back to bring it in for a hit. It happened in slow motion for Jim as his panic overtook him and he hurriedly grasped the fist mid-throw. It was a lot harder than it looked to hold the burly fist back.

"Captain," Spock started again as the large cadet cursed and tried to fling Jim's small arms off him with the other fist still holding him to the wall, "by involving yourself in this quarrel you are—"

"I'm not really—" Jim ground out while still holding on to the fist that was desperately trying to make contact with the Commander's face, "—in a position to argue regulation, Mr. Spock!"

"But, you are—" Jim ran out of strength, the fist flew forward but only made contact with the wall as Spock maneuvered from the point of violence. The cadet howled from the pain of striking the hard wall, but didn't release his hold on the Commander. He instead, used the Vulcan as a weapon and threw the Commander around so that his body collided with Jim, making them both make an 'oomph' noise. Jim hit the floor with a thud and shortly, Spock was thrown by the cadet's ungodly strength and landed right on top of the Captain. Their bellies were sprawled out on each other in a criss-cross shape.

Before Jim could get his breath from the Vulcan grenade, the cadet came at them again with his large fists ready to impale them, but as he came forward, Spock reacted swiftly and grasped Jim's shoulders in something like a hug as he rolled them both out of the way of the iron fists. His poundings went straight into the floor making a large _crack_. It was after that that Jim realized the cadet couldn't possibly be Human, or at least not a full one with the amount of strength this guy was sporting.

They scurried up from the floor, Spock's hands still holding on to Jim's shoulders, but the cadet came fast and cornered them against the wall. It was almost like a bizarre dance as Spock rolled them and ducked them both out of the way like a crazy tango pair to avoid the onslaught of fists. It didn't help the cadet's anger much that Spock was still talking during the entire one-sided fight.

"As stated in regulation—" The right fist swung, Spock rolled them across the wall and out of the way, "—four point six A, paragraph B—" Clutching Jim's head, he made them both duck at once to avoid another direct hit, " subsection five, seven—" Spock turned them so quickly Jim felt himself become slightly dizzy as the fist landed mere inches from the Commander's head, "—fourteen and thirty-two,—" taking the small of Jim's back, he twirled him gently away as a fist crashed into the wall beside them, "as your Commanding officer, I hereby—" the fist was quick on the recoil and just as it came again, the Commander already rolled them smoothly left, "—inform you that you are—" as this fist came, in quite literally a dance move, Spock flung Jim out by his arm to dodge a double fist attack, then twirled him back in to smack the Captain against his body, "—unfit for duty and hereby discharged." The cadet ignored him completely as Spock tried to tell him his rights as a citizen but it only brought more fists to rain down on them, which Spock kept stealthily avoiding.

"Spock!" Jim yelped more than berated as the Commander dipped him back in what was like another dance move to avoid another swing, "I don't think he really fucking cares! And will you let me go?" In the brief ceasefire, Spock had Jim dipped back again and was holding his weight with one arm while his other hand had caught the cadet's right hook. He looked down at Jim with a blank expression he couldn't read before he inclined his head.

"My apologies, Captain." Then he released Jim who fell promptly to the floor with no more support.

"Thanks," he grumbled, but then the fist in Spock's hand was released and crashed on to the floor right in between Jim's legs. Did this beast ever tire out? Jim did a back roll and managed to throw himself back up on to his feet, just barely being missed by another swing. By now, the commotion had brought other cadets from their rooms and study halls to the hallway. Some were whispering, others cheering them on, but Jim didn't see this as a good thing. The cadet was blindly attacking and any one of the bystanders could be next.

Just as Jim predicted, the furious cadet lashed out at Jim, but he dodged it making the cadet spin around and throw another attack, which got dangerously close to an onlooker. Jim shouted for the others to get back and get security, and maybe someone already had, but the fight was becoming unbearable. In the midst of all the rage, the cadet landed a punch in Jim's side, knocking him over to the floor. Spock, rushed over to help him, but it left the Vulcan completely open to attack.

As the Commander bent over him to assist, the cadet came full force with a harsh fist ready. Jim panicked, grasped Spock's shoulders and rolled them over just in time for the fist to plant itself firmly into Jim's spine. He cried out from the pain, still clutching Spock's shoulders, then fell over like a dead weight. He vaguely thought he heard Spock calling for him, but he couldn't hear anything pass the hissing heart in his ears. Then, from the floor, Jim hazily watched as in the distance he saw security rushing to the scene, but they were not needed as Spock used the cadet's weight against him to flip them around, then swift fingers moved to the cadet's neck and he fell to the floor with a silent thud.

The cadet was quickly put under lock and key by the security team as the Commander walked over to Jim who immediately tried to sit up. It ended up being one hell of a hard task. Every disk in his spine cried out in opposition to his orders. He slumped forward, but Spock caught him and steadied him with gentle hands.

"You are injured." The Commander stated in his flat voice, though Jim could hear a slight strain.

"If Bones were here, he'd say it's my talent." Jim stifled a groan as he tried again to move. Spock didn't seem to appreciate his light-heart take on his injury.

"Do not move, Captain." Spock pushed him gently back to the floor, much to Jim's protest. "I will summon Medical." As much as Jim hated Medical, medical personnel, medical hypos, medical _everything_, his back was in too much pain to let him move about his own free will, and Jim _tried_ to move of his own free will.

Spock pulled out a communicator with the Starfleet Academy symbol on the top, flipped it open, made a quick transmission to Medical and closed the device as efficiently as if it were his own palm.

In a matter of minutes, three Medical staff approached them, one of them a doctor he had seen around and knew as Bones' medical instructor. Without delay, both he and Spock were taken to Medical, which granted was a better place than Sickbay on a starship, but still just as heinous and sterilized smelling. At least he wouldn't have to listen to Bones tell him why the hell he shouldn't be stitching him up and how much of a damn fool he was for getting involved in bitch fights anyway. That was a strange thought, as Jim hadn't served with Dr. McCoy long enough to know what he was like in Sickbay, so how he knew Bones would berate him for something he hadn't even done yet was a bit unsettling. Maybe it was just a foreboding due to their odd bromance.

They sat in silence on the medical bed together. One cute nurse was wrapping a bandage around Jim's middle with a small heating pad to be placed on the struck spot, as the doctor, whom he learned was Dr. Burk, ran a tricorder over the both of them for the umpteenth time. He read it over, re-calibrated it, read it over again, then finally when he figured he had done and read all he could, sat the triocorder aside on a nearby surface, then calling his nurse, excused himself for only a moment, telling his patients he would return.

The silence from before encased them again. Jim decided to pass the time by bouncing his eyes around the room. When that grew tedious, he looked at the Commander and sighed. A lot was on his mind, and apparently there was a lot on Spock's too. The Vulcan looked like stone. His eyes hard, black, soulless. Jim wanted to comfort him, but found he had nothing of value to say or do. Deciding the best method to break the tension, he smiled weakly in hopes to garner the Commander's attention.

"Are you okay?" He ventured. His first thought was to ask how he was feeling, but anticipated that he'd get a bland remark about how Vulcans didn't 'feel' and opted for something a little more vague. Spock didn't answer immediately, but kept his eyes away from Jim, he looked upset, though anyone looking at him would beg to differ as his character was just as devoid as emotion as it typically was.

"My apologies, Captain. I am at fault for your current distress." That explained the sudden chill wrapped around the Commander. He was blaming himself for Jim's injury. Well, technically it could be argued that it was his fault, but Jim refused to believe that and voiced just as such.

"No," Jim argued, "that pompous fucker is at fault." The reply was quicker than he thought it would be.

"I could have prevented your injury had I accurately calculated his strength given his temperament and body mass."

"He was blindly flailing, he was _bound_ to actually hit one of us."

"Indeed, but he was aiming for me."

"And he got me instead, and you know what? I'm glad he did. Now, all that bullshit aside," Jim relaxed back a bit, "are you going to tell me what that was all about or do I need to wait and read it in your formal report?" Spock went coldly silent again. He turned away, trying not to look Jim in the eye, but Jim could see them anyway. Due to the fluorescent lighting of Medical, Jim could still barely see the faint mark on Spock's cheek. It was then everything clicked in his head. "That was that guy from your 'minor disagreement', wasn't it?" The Commander offered no movements, but his shoulders minutely tensed. Jim sighed and shook his head. "You know, I could be going out on a limb here, but I'm starting to think your 'minor disagreement' wasn't 'minor' at all."

Silence.

It took a few moments, but the Commander seemed to give in to whatever logic was in his head, turned and gazed forwardly down at the three-inch shorter young Captain.

"Indeed you are correct. Considering my efforts were for naught and you have been injured due to my error, I believe I owe you an explanation." He steeled himself, and noticeably struggled with his next few words. "That cadet is the nephew of Captain Harold." Jim had personally read the 'Red List' of all the names of the officers who had died at the Battle of Vulcan. Captain Harold had been one of the first on the scene and the first to die. "He holds me responsible for his uncle's demise." Spock nearly whispered, like he believed it was true. "At the Memorial Ball, we encountered one another where our minor disagreement took place. He wanted me to discharge completely from Starfleet as he said I committed murder, but I refused him, stating that I had performed my duties. That was when he offered a physical assault as his refutation." Anger coiled in Jim's stomach, but he didn't let it make him react. "I ignored the disagreement as my logic calculated that the likelihood of him confronting me prior to being discharged for irrational behaviour was six point three-seven percent. With such low odds, I found it illogical to inform you or Admiral Pike."

Jim understood now and he felt horrible for it. If he had just paid more attention, had done what he was supposed to, Spock wouldn't have faced that bastard alone. Jim could have had this situation handled at the Ball, even if the scene would have mirrored what had happened just a few minutes ago. At least they would have been in public and the scene would have been handled quicker than it had now. To be told that you are responsible for the deaths of the ones people loved must have been hard to take. Jim had been lucky enough that most people viewed him as a hero instead of a murderer, but what got him the most was that the Vulcan still probably felt responsible for his own mother's death, topped with added accusation, he could only imagine what clouded the poor Commander's mind.

He reached out, patted Spock's arm, making the Commander look at the point of touch, and said, "Only a fool would believe such bullshit. You're not a fool, Spock. You were right, you did your duties and all that you could." He removed his hand. "My face may be the one plastered all over the newscasts, but to me… you're _my_ hero." He paused, gauging Spock's reaction, but when he utterly saw nothing, he lightly blushed, feeling stupid for admitting something that a Vulcan would probably view as illogical, but then he quickly added, "I know that probably doesn't mean much to you—"

"Thank you, Jim." Jim stopped mid-breath, his lungs deflating, his heart stopping as he stared into the beautiful warm chocolates that were now staring back at him. Spock had just said his _name_! It had been the first time he uttered 'Jim' since the _Narada Crisis_. He had nothing to say in reply, completely stunned and for no other reason but hearing his name. It was baffling, and he felt like a creepy idiot again as his face blushed a bright pink. When he looked at the Commander again, his eyes had turned away, but a new warmth was settling around him that made Jim feel homey. Like he had sat on that bed numerous times in just this same setting. Well, his creepy-factor may have shot up about twenty percent, but if Spock didn't mind, neither did Jim (though 'slumber party' and 'basement' did rear its ugly awkwardness again). He smiled. Perhaps it meant more to Spock that he thought…?

To interrupt the moment, Dr. Burk returned with another dataPADD in hand which he sat down next to his other. Jim couldn't tell you if he noticed the sudden happiness filling the room, but his mood only darkened as he crossed his arms in true disgruntled fashion. _What a buzz kill._

"Well, Commander Spock, you're fine, except for a little bruising, but you, Captain Kirk, have a mild muscle strain. I wouldn't go lifting any heavy boxes anytime soon or picking fights with gorillas." Jim couldn't contain his snickers.

"Can I fight a _little_ gorilla?" He asked with a large, lopsided grin. A remark like that would have gotten him a punch in the gut from Bones, but this doctor only rolled his eyes.

"How about no fighting at all?" Dr. Burk deadpanned, unaware that he was sharp-shooting down any good mood that had been present. Wow, it was no wonder Bones and the medical students were always in a bad mood. This guy took jokes about as well as a face took an iron. Dr. Burk pulled up a dataPADD he had sat down and began writing into it with his small stylus. "Now, Commander, you can go back to doing whatever you want, but Captain, I'm going to prescribe some bed rest. It won't do you any good to be moving around too much with such a heavy strain." That wasn't what Jim wanted to hear. He and Spock still had their dinner date and didn't want to miss that just because his back got in the way of someone's fist. As he turned to tell Spock he was still on for the dinner, in spite of the inconvenient back injury, he was dismissed before his mouth even opened.

"Perhaps it would be wise for you to rest, Captain." That stoic, stone wall was back. He was cold and uninviting again, though Jim was uncertain as to why. Regardless, he wasn't missing this dinner and was prepared to argue with his dinner date to make sure it happened.

"Now, Mr. Spock, you know I'm not going to rest—"

"I premeditated this conversation and have already prepared an argument against yours. Should you feel so inclined, I will not hesitate to tailor my vocabulary to make you understand the illogic behind this endeavour."

"Now you're just being a jerk." Jim lightly chuckled as he began to put back on his uniform top one sleeve at a time.

"Should you mean the definition 'a sharp, quick, or sudden movement', your speech skills have been obviously impaired. But should you be referring to its informal usage for a contemptibly obnoxious person, then you are in error as I am neither contempt nor obnoxious."

"Or _modest_. Don't forget modest." Jim jabbed back with a large smile. Spock fell silent and removed himself from the bed to straighten out his uniform. He looked at Jim indifferently.

"You are correct. I do not see the benefit of downgrading my abilities for perusal of mutual Human respect."

"Look," Jim sighed as he zipped up his uniform, "I'm illogical—we already know that—and you're just going to waste your breath by telling me what I already know. So concede to the Human logic of the situation and have dinner with me like we planned. I mean, what's the worst that can happen? I choke on a crouton?" Spock thought for a moment, then inclined his head in silent acquiesce.

"Indeed you have convinced me, Captain." A small twinkle was in his eye when he said this, and though Jim had no idea how to interpret it, he didn't really care. This was just another win for Team Kirk. "However," Spock began again, "I will now greatly discourage you from ordering any meals that contain croutons as it would be most unfortunate for you to cease existence so close to the initiation of your first mission." Jim laughed and clapped a hand on his shoulder as Dr. Burk ordered them out.

"No salads for me, then!" Spock didn't offer a reply, but, and Jim could have possibly imagined this, it looked like he rolled his eyes in a Human gesture to say Jim was 'illogical' anyway. Whether or not he'd actually seen it, he just smiled and walked alongside his dinner date not feeling creepy at all—but as though, he belonged.

...

Dinner had been a great idea. Dinner in public—eh, not so much.

Jim had suggested three places they could dine, but the moment they arrived at one, they were bombarded with stares, thanks yous, and people recognizing them all over the place. They tried the other two and the same results ensued. It had been the four sisters that tackled Jim in a fanatic thanks that finally made him realize how stupid of an idea this had been. It's not that he didn't appreciate the gestures, but _fangirling_? Wasn't that what someone did for a rock star or something? He never would have made it away from the girls had Spock not began to bore them to death with technical talk. Jim never felt so relieved to hear a monotonous thesis on Trans-Warp Theory in his _life_.

After the girls went away, yawning ever so slightly, Jim took Spock's arm and dashed out the door. When they were a good distance away, Jim stopped and released him. He was getting desperate now, willing to eat dinner in an alley if it meant he wouldn't be recognized. Fame had its perks, but it also had its shit-tastically wonderful downsides.

As he looked around, there weren't many other places they could go where the food wasn't replicated to taste like default chicken. Plus, if he remembered his xenobiology class correctly, Vulcans were vegetarians. So a place that served real vegetables and fruits would be greatly appreciated.

He was just about to give up and opt an idea that they eat at the Academy mess when he turned to the sound of the Commander flipping open his communicator.

"Can you reserve my dinner guest and I a table at the _Fleur_?" He asked someone, then went silent for a few moments. "Acknowledged. Thank you." As said before, Jim wasn't an idiot. Even he knew that _Fleur_ was a high-class restaurant in all of San Francisco. Before he could ask if it was the same one Spock had just asked for reservations for, the Commander nodded in his direction to imply that he follow and hailed a taxi.

They rode the taxi out about 60 or so blocks into the heart of San Francisco until they stopped at the very _Fleur_ Jim had thought of. When they paid the taxi driver and stood out, Jim glanced at the Commander, impressed but worried as he took in the gargantuan scale of the five-star restaurant.

"Uh, Mr. Spock, this is a bit out of my budget." Spock was quick to quip.

"Then it is fortunate that you are not paying for this meal." Jim switched glances between the Commander and the _Fleur_. There was no way _Spock_ could afford this place either.

"I think this is a bit out of _your_ budget, too."

"Neither you nor I are paying for this meal." Spock said flatly and started for the doors. Jim stumbled after him.

"Then who—?" They approached the door where the Maitre'd asked if they had a reservation. Spock was quick to tell him that they were reserved under 'Christopher Pike' for two. Jim's face nearly hit the floor when he heard the Admiral's name. That bastard was on Spock's _speed dial?_ He felt the prerequisites of jealously overtaking him, but they were halted as Jim remembered that Pike might be paying for their meal, but it was _Jim_ who was eating with the Commander.

_Heh. A free meal's a free meal._ Jim told himself, suddenly not caring about his Vulcan battle with the Admiral. He might have won this round, but Jim still had a chance. He wasn't down for the count just yet. Pike would have to do a little more than provide high-class treatment to get Jim sweating.

As the Maitre'd confirmed their sudden reservation, he led them into the beautiful restaurant and towards a lift. All around him was pale lighting from gorgeous chandeliers, the carpet was a deep red colour adorned with velvet Victorian designs. They passed many tables and all were full with beautifully dressed people and out-worlders. Looking at an Andorian in the distance, he felt under-dressed as even with the man's blue skin he looked dashing in his white suit. The Commander showed little care, as they were both dressed in their black uniforms and some could say that counted as fancy, and simply followed the Maitre'd into the lift, Jim on his heels.

The golden gate closed around them as they were taken up several stories and into the heavens of _Fleur_. When the lift stopped, opened, and they began to exit, Jim felt a small tendril of déjà vu, like he had been here before and doing this exact thing in the past. But, that couldn't be true as Jim had never stepped on the _lawn_ of this restaurant before. He followed closely behind the Vulcan, thinking how perfectly he fit into this scenery, but stopped dead in his tracks when he saw their table.

The Maitre'd pulled out Spock's chair for him, and he sat promptly, turning his head up to look at Jim who hadn't taken his seat yet. Jim rubbed his eyes, uncertain of his vision, but it happened again. He saw Spock older, wearing something like robes as he placed a rose in the table vase. He blinked—and it was gone. His heart began to pound, unsure of himself, but not wanting the strange occurrence to devoid him of his evening, he ignored it and took his offered seat. He would just have to address this problem later. Now was not a good time.

The table was beautiful. Their chairs had a fancy art nouveau design about them, and the top of the table was covered in a silken linen, glasses set about with silverware already in place, napkins folded into the cutest star shapes, and an empty vase in the middle which the Maitre'd quickly placed a curved candle and lit. Jim had never been in such an extravagant place before and the scenery really overwhelmed him, but not Spock. The Commander looked as indifferent to the atmosphere as he did lecturing. Jim couldn't understand how it did it as the window they were placed beside gazed down on all of San Francisco, their twinkling lights fading in and out from the distance. They were at the top of the restaurant for sure.

How the Commander managed to look so impassive given the earth-bound beauty, Jim could not understand, but if one thing was for certain, the Vulcan fit in it better than any painting he had ever seen. It was like the finer things in life were _made_ for Spock.

It was too bad that Jim felt he didn't fit at all.

...

A/N - *blush* Wow! What a chapter! I hope you enjoyed it! I really like pitting Kirk against Pike for Spock. Considering that both men were indebt to each other (Pike gave Kirk a meaning to his life and Kirk gave Pike his life in general by saving his butt from Nero) I think it makes a good plot developer. I mean, Pike and Spock were loyal to each other in TOS and I didn't really want to completely throw that canon out the window. I figured I'd at least give the Admiral a fighting chance. 8D


	5. Chapter 5

...

In fact, the more he thought about it, the _more_ Jim began to realize that he was like the puzzle piece that didn't fit no matter which angle you shoved it. The fanciest place Jim could say he ever ate at was probably the Starfleet Academy mess hall, and Jim told himself that hardly counted as 'fancy' just because their tables were clean. It wasn't that he'd never seen fine establishments before, and certainly being a Captain and part-time diplomat was sure to put him in similar settings, but Jim was more attune to a western, backwoods horse-riding lifestyle. Being in the _Fleur_ for him was no different than dressing a cattle rancher in a three-piece suit. It might look good to others, but damn was it a mental shocker to the rancher. Looking around, Pike's sucker punch finally set in. this round was not only won, but he had been thoroughly obliterated. How could Jim match up to dinner at a five-star restaurant?

But, what really sat in his thoughts and only served to make him more uncomfortable was the fact that the Commander had _called_ Pike and just _knew_ the Admiral was going to willingly reserve him a table at said five-star restaurant. He supposed that if he was desperate enough to throw a low blow at his competition, he'd willingly throw out credits to prove his worth too. The only problem was, Jim had just started as a Captain and hadn't even had his first commission yet, so he was about as rich as a college student. Pike was obviously flaunting in a completely subliminal way. But, Jim tried not to let it affect him. As said, it wasn't the Admiral having dinner with the Vulcan, so he still had a chance. Maybe Jim could prove his worth in other ways besides the monetary. He still had his charm, right?

_Blush. _

Jim knew he was blushing and desperately tried to hide the evidence behind the tri-fold menu the Maitre d' had given him, because if he was hearing his thoughts correctly, it sounded like the two of them were not trying to sway the Vulcan for his officer services, but more like sway him into their beds. It was like they were competing for the same woman, only, Spock wasn't a woman.

And also that'd be weird.

On soooo many levels.

But the more Jim thought of it like that, the more sense it made. If Jim treated this like a race into the heart of a woman, he may just come out on top. His natural charm was something his mother told him he got from his father, and since he was a lady killer, maybe the same tactics would work to sway a Vulcan on to his starship. In the end, he'd not only kick Pike's crippled ass (_wow, that sounded so offensive...Though I don't think it counts since Pike could kick my ass even with immobile legs_) but he'd also make friends with the Commander and that would lead to the friendship Elder Spock told him about. What could possibly go wrong?

Jim smiled inwardly to himself_._

So given that this wasn't Jim's first choice selection in atmosphere, and he was about as sophisticated as a wet dog, his thoughts rushed back trying to remember every holovid movie he watched with rich people in it, every etiquette technique he learned in his xenobiology class and diplomatic reference classes, crossed his fingers and just hoped he wouldn't make a fool of himself.

That ended up being a little harder than he thought it would be as he looked at the menu listings, prices, and then to divert his gaze—the odd arrangement of silverware in front of him (additional silverware on the ends for specific species). He was being overwhelmed, and for a moment forgot his intentions, but once Spock told the Maitre d' his order, and Jim just pointed to something he couldn't rightly pronounce, he felt a little better now that they were alone and he wasn't under the watchful eye of some aristocratic waiter. When Spock casually reached for a pitcher of ice water the Maitre d' had left behind and less-than-gracefully poured some into his glass, Jim felt that maybe the Vulcan didn't care so much about how he appeared, and maybe Jim didn't have to worry so much.

"So," he began when the Commander began to squeeze the juice of a strange fruit into his water, "why?"

He watched as Spock generously added a bit of sugar and stirred his water to his liking, then he raised the glass to his lips and said, "That is a very vague question, Captain." Then he took a small sip and placed his glass down. "You will have to elaborate if you are seeking specific information."

"Why did you decide on the _Fleur_? We could have eaten at the academy mess and it wouldn't have put a dent in someone else's wallet." Spock appeared to think about the question for a moment, then took another sip of his water. Jim noted how relaxed he appeared and almost how very 'Human' the setting made the Commander seem. It was like he was scoffing at the fine décor while Jim felt about as on edge as he could without voicing it.

"I assumed that you would not mind." The Commander finally said at length. "You showed much distress in the three establishments you selected due to being recognized. Since you were determined to dine out, I logically assumed that a place of higher dining would not only suffice our need for sustenance, but would also avoid the cumbersome task of avoiding recognition." Jim wasn't certain he understood due to the convoluted choice of words, but something about that made it sound like a compliment.

Jim smiled, deciding to go out on his hunch, "You did this for me?"

"_Logically_, of course." He said flatly, logically with another sip of his water.

_Take that, Pike!_ Jim mentally cheered. Suddenly his ego returned and any doubt he may have had about this night ending with a passionate cry of 'Christopher' was quickly bat away. Due to him being Vulcan and all that, Jim was uncertain if it was actually done for him out of pity for the back punch, but since Spock would undoubtedly tell him that 'pity' was an emotion and something he did not feel, he figured that even if it was a lie, he'd just believe Spock had done this because he liked him and wanted to dine with him as much as Jim wanted to reciprocate. Jim considered that another win.

Deciding now was the perfect moment to try his luck again, he relaxed forward, a twinkle in his eye as he spoke softly, "Mr. Spock, I've been thinking and I would really like it if you would do me the honour and become my First Of—"

"Is this what you Humans refer to as beauty?" The question caught Jim off guard. So much that his mouth was still slightly agape when he looked to see what the Commander was talking about. The table was so close to the window that they could look out and all around San Francisco just by turning their head. Spock was currently doing that. His back was ramrod straight, hands neatly in his lap, neck poised perfectly in alignment with the rest of his body as his warm, chocolate eyes stared out past the glass and on to the city. From where Jim was sitting, there was just barely a reflection of the Vulcan that he could see staring right back into the room.

He couldn't tell you why, but his heart stilled as he gaped at the angles of the Vulcan and took in the natural lines of his physique, completely forgetting his original question about the First Officer position. It only lasted a second, maybe, before Jim took control of himself again and contemplated the question given to him. "There are many things Humans find beautiful." Jim told him as he, too, stared out the window and at the bright lights of the city, "What are you looking at in particular?"

"I read a poem by T'Palloun of Vulcan once, which spoke of Earth and its 'beauty' from far above. She described that the scenery was vastly different from the sights of Vulcan."

Jim smiled. "Are Vulcans too logical for beauty, Mr. Spock?" The Commander sat in thought, then slowly turned his gaze until his vision was full of Jim. He stared at him with no other expressions, though the one he currently wore Jim could not translate.

"No," he told him directly, "I simply wished to understand this Human concept as I see nothing extraordinary in an aerial view of a large, crowded city. However," he peered out again, the lights reflecting the warmth in Spock's eyes, "I do believe I understand why she wrote her findings. As my mother sought beauty in what little of Earth she brought to Vulcan, I can see the little beauty of Vulcan, here, in Earth."

Jim didn't want to interrupt, but it felt like that admittance deserved some kind of response. There wasn't much he thought he could add to such a broad expanse of what the Captain himself, thought beautiful. So he settled on a question instead of an additive reply. "Do you always speak so profoundly when having dinner with a stranger? Or am I a lucky first?" An eyebrow rose slowly, making the Commander turn back to him.

"Do you think of us as strangers, Captain?" No. He didn't, actually. In that moment he felt like he had spent an entire lifetime with the guy in front of him, though he knew this wasn't true. He figured it was his small memory of Elder Spock, the potential lifetime staring at him as blankly as the Vulcan himself. Jim desperately wanted to tell the Commander this, about Elder Spock and their 'other life', but he knew better than to voice such leaps of faith to a Vulcan. Instead, he settled to simply tell Spock that he didn't view him as a stranger, but as a companion he would like to take the time to learn more about—hopefully as his First Officer.

As Jim's luck would have it, right as he opened his mouth to answer, their waiter decided that was the perfect moment to bring their orders, rendering any and all conversation silent much to Jim's dismay. It was when his strange dish was placed in front of him that the Captain realized that Spock had stealthily evaded his question yet again. Thinking (or possibly lying) to himself, he guessed that the Commander had a lot on his mind, was still thinking about his home world now lost forever, and probably his mother, so it was really no wonder he hadn't heard Jim ask for his services. He would try again, Jim knew. Shore leave wasn't over just yet.

Now filling their hungry stomachs, the previous conversation had died off, but now they began a new one that mainly discussed topics such as warp theories, mechanical engineering, and to Jim's surprise—poetry. The meal was delightful, polite, and Jim forgot himself in the expensive surroundings as he focused solely on the Commander before him. Just like with his speech, he took in the exotic visage of Spock adding little to the actual conversation, but this time the Vulcan didn't stop to tell him he was distracted. If Jim had his say, he'd say that the Commander looked as though he was enjoying the attention.

Jim listened intently as Spock logically fled from topic to topic. What surprised him the most was Spock's table manners as they weren't nearly as logical as he thought they'd be. Sure, his back was straight and he managed to keep the food in his mouth, but a few times, almost like the Human side of him was peaking through, he waved his fork nonchalantly with a piece of fruit attached, or covered his mouth with his napkin so he could chew and speak at the same time without seeming rude. But these were all subtle things that no one else would have noticed unless they had been watching him as keenly as Jim was. Somewhere in his thoughts, Jim felt privileged to see this side of the Commander and hope sprang free in his heart that maybe he stood a chance against the Admiral. What really boost this theory was when other people were noticeably looking in their direction or their waiter returned, his actions were more methodical, but when they were gone, he was right back relaxing.

The change was so random that Jim had to wonder; did Spock even know he was doing this?

After their meal, they charged the orders to Admiral Pike who must have been sitting right next to his credit account because it was promptly paid via electronically. They were then escorted out of the _Fleur_ by a different Maitre d', and were led out into the cool night air. Jim couldn't help but to smile. Though his back was hurting like a bitch, he had enjoyed himself and was sad to learn that their night was ending so soon. He was enjoying the Commander's company more than he thought he already had, and it was so strange to remember that this was the same guy who threw him over the helm consol in a violent rage.

Jim wanted to take a taxi back to the academy, but the Commander suggested they walk. Jim playfully jabbed that Spock just wanted to walk off all those extra calories he gorged on, but the Commander offered no reply but simply began to walk off. Jim followed on his heels accordingly. Falling in the same stride, he noticed how perfectly their feet fell in rhythm. It was like they were made to be in command together, walking together, being together. Though the Commander was silent, Jim thought that maybe he noticed it too as his eyes fell every once in a while to their harmonious strides (or maybe he just thought it was plain creepy and decided to say nothing about it. Yeah, probably that).

They were silent for some time, but it wasn't like the Transporter Pad scene. It felt comfortable, right. Jim casually drifted in each step then looked up at the dark, night sky twinkling with stars, planets, novas, satellites, and more.

"Mr. Spock," Jim started while still keeping his gait, "what would you say is your favourite part about the universe?" It's not that he wasn't enjoying the silence, but Jim loved a good conversation, and given their previous topics, they had a lot in common much to his surprise.

"I find it illogical to state anything as my 'favourite'. Favouritism is a Human trait." _Should have seen that coming…_

"Oh, come on," Jim urged, "there must be something you like more than anything else." Jim didn't think he was going to answer him as the silence overtook them quickly. But then, a small sigh and an abrupt answer.

"If I must indulge you, then I suppose I find the differences and similarities in interstellar species interesting." And there was their conversation starter. For the rest of the walk (which was hella long) they spoke about other species and other humanoids. Jim learned a lot, actually. What surprised him the most was when he told Spock he had dated Gaila, the only Orion at the academy and came to learn that Orion females had a certain pheromone they secreted to make males submit to them. When Jim said he didn't remember submitting to her every whim (diverting the conversation away from the fact that the only thing he wanted to submit to was diving in between her emerald green thighs), they both came to the conclusion that she was either only half-Orion or had completed the medically impossible. As Jim went on to describe her red hair, Spock told him that he believed she may have been a chance offspring brought to Earth for protection from the Orions as most had dark hair. No more was spoken of her when Jim grimly uttered that it was heartbreaking to read her name on the Red List.

The academy finally came into sight after their long trek back, but Jim could honestly say he didn't regret it. His legs were now going to hurt just as much as his back, but really he didn't care. His evening had been too damn fantastic (sans getting his ass whooped) to focus on the little things.

Walking through the brightly lit courtyard, then heading into the temporary lodgings, Jim snickered quietly to himself as he thought this was just like walking a date home. Of course, he didn't tell that to the Commander, he would probably take offense, but that was how it seemed. Not that Jim minded or anything. But their small conversation was cut sharply when they entered on to their hall and waiting at Spock's lodge door was the only woman Jim knew he could never have.

Nyota Uhura.

Spock was the first to catch sight of her, stopping his steps so sharply that Jim could literally feel the rebound of the force. Wondering what had gotten into him and why he was frozen like a statue, that was when he saw her. She looked up from where she was, her hair down around her shoulders and dressed in a light yellow parka and black jeans. Nothing was said as she approached them.

"Spock," she nearly whispered, but stopped a few feet in front of them when she realized who was beside her boyfriend. "Kirk." She acknowledged in a less than hearty tone. She looked tired, like she went a couple rounds with the same cadet who opened a can of whoop-ass on him. Now that she was closer, he could see the slight frizz of her hair, the tired look in her eyes, and the feeling that she hadn't smiled recently.

"Lt. Uhura." The Commander acknowledged dryly.

"Uhura." Jim said with an uneasy smile. He had no idea what was going on, but the tension between them was so thick, he knew this topped his Transporter scene any day. He turned to the Commander to possibly read his features to gauge what the fuck was going on, but there was nothing.

Absolutely nothing.

His expression was as solid and cold as the day he met him. And that really set the bar to make him notice how relaxed and (dare he say it?) carefree the Vulcan had actually been. What made it even harder to take was that last time Jim checked, these two were _dating_, so there was no reason for them to both look about as pissed off as they allowed themselves to look in public.

The tension was thick enough to cut with a knife, but neither one moved. It was awkward for Jim as the only thing that made him more uncomfortable than commitments was a lovers' spat. The last thing he wanted to be caught between was the beautiful Nyota Uhura with her deadly Starfleet training and Commander Spock's sporadic dance move evading techniques. This was typically the part where Jim made his escape. It wasn't really any of his business what went on behind the scenes of his new friend's love life. Bones was his best friend and they hardly discussed sexual partners with each other! So having this out in the open with a new friendship had to break a silent bro-code of some sort.

All that had passed through his mind in the blink of an eye, but just as he turned to say goodnight to the Commander, thank him for the evening and make his leave, his blue eyes caught those of the darkened onyx trapped in the Vulcan's stare. It was strange, but somehow he knew that Spock was asking him to stay, though he wasn't sure how and he could have been possibly wrong. But, he stopped with his mouth slightly opened, then shut up and turned back to Uhura who only strangled him with her metaphorical mental hands.

"Captain, would you mind leaving Spock and I alone?" She asked through slight anger, but obviously trying to keep it in check as this 'farm boy' now had the power to reprimand her ass on anything. He switched glances between her and Spock, nothing being said, and then he went out on a limb and told her that if Spock wanted him to leave, he would. "Tell him to leave." She ordered her (use to be?) boyfriend. Now it was Spock's turn to glimpse between them.

"Anything you wish to openly discuss with me can be said in front of Captain Kirk." It wasn't only Uhura's eyes that shot open at the statement, but Jim's went wide as well, if not equally and for the same reason. It wasn't everyday that a Vulcan told his girlfriend 'hey, look babe, if you wanna be pissy, you gotta do it in front of my friend here too'. It was apparently not what she was expecting to hear as now that she realized she would be forced to be in the company of her soon-to-be Captain, she corrected her behaviour to one more fitting for a discussion about her communications. Though, it didn't stop her from shooting a wry glance in his direction, like the stare would burst him into flames.

After a few silent moments, she took a deep breath, conceded to her boyfriend's logic and began, her features softer now and her voice low and weak. "Look, you left so quickly that I didn't have time to say this but, I just want you to know how sorry I am." Yeah, Jim had no idea what she was talking about, but Spock inclined his head to express that he did. "I didn't know they'd react that way." She looked up at him, took a step closer and extended her arms to place them around his neck, but the Commander had other ideas and took exactly one step back so that if she collapsed her arms, they would hold nothing. "Spock…" She whispered longingly, saddened, dropping her arms. "Spock, please…don't do this." The Vulcan betrayed nothing of his heritage as no emotional expression seeped from his icy exterior.

Uhura huffed, pouted, saddened and then angry all over again, but this time with tears filling her beautiful eyes. She stared at her lover, then shot a hard glance at Jim who had respectfully remained silent, then she turned heatedly back to the Commander.

"So that's it?" She demanded through a wet face, "You're too damn _Vulcan_ to discuss it with me but you're _Human_ enough to drown it with _him?_"

Him being Jim.

Spock offered no reply, but his shoulders stiffened. Her nostrils flared, she clenched her fists, then pushed past him angrily making their shoulders brush and nearly knocking the Vulcan over. "Well," She barked as she stomped away, "I'm so happy that you found my _replacement_ already!"

Jim watched her storm off, not really understanding what she meant by 'replacement', but understanding that a lot more had probably just taken place than what he could visibly see. Had he just witnessed a break-up? Looking at the stone-like Spock, he could only conclude that he had and though the Commander was obviously trying to suppress _something_, Jim knew he must be hurting. Daringly, he reached a hand out to place it on his shoulder in comfort, but unlike the last times where he had done it before remembering that Vulcans hated touch, Spock moved away before it could be done, leaving Jim looking like a fool with his body leaning forward and a hand in mid-air.

Jim was confused.

"Spock, are you oka—"

"Our evening activities have come to their close, Captain." Spock stated in his deep monotone, nearly frightening Jim with its professionalism. "Your presence is no longer required."

"But, Spock, I—"

The Commander stiffly turned on his heels, "Good night, Captain." His feet dropped heavy steps as he began for his lodge.

"Spock!" Jim called, went after him, falling a few steps behind, mentally noting that their stride was completely different this time and giving him difficulty to keep up. "Wait, I mean, that's it? I don't want to leave you like this—" The Commander stopped so quickly that Jim collided with his shoulder for an instant.

"Please do not follow me." As he started off again, Jim being Jim disregarded his warning and kept after him, questioning him and his strange behaviour. Yeah, so the guy just got dumped, or dumped her, or whatever, and Jim knew it wasn't a good idea to leave a Human alone with something like that, so leaving a Vulcan was probably like leaving your home with a bon fire in the kitchen. They weren't the epic friends he wanted to be, but damnit if he wasn't going to try. Uhura had been the only other person he knew the Vulcan had been really close to. Who else was he going to share this sudden hurt with?

Spock kept moving, Jim on his heels, trying to get his attention and make him stop, but to no avail. As they got within sensor range of the Commander's lodge, Jim finally had it and decided he'd try one last time with something that he knew would have to get his attention. He'd at least have to try one more time before the night was over, he might not get another chance.

"Spock, damnit!" Jim shouted, "Fine, go be pissy on your own, but I just want you to know that this doesn't change my decision on wanting you to be my First Offi—" The door shut in his face. A stale red filled his vision and the sound of locks clicking into place flooded his ears along with his hissing heart. He released the breath that he didn't know he was holding and let it wash over the closed door. He blinked, dumbfounded as he came to realize that there was no way that the Commander hadn't heard him that time. It was apparent as the nose on his face, Spock deliberately avoided the question and by his methods, it seemed he wasn't interested in the position at all. Jim mentally put together all the requests he sent and pictured the cold Vulcan deleting every last one of them.

This night had evidently meant nothing.

"Spock?" Jim tried, thinking that he could somehow hear him through the door, but when no answer came, he dipped his head and rested his forehead against the cold surface. "Uh… I guess, goodnight, then. Sleep well." He added for no reason, maybe just to make himself feel better. Taking his time, he pulled away from the door and took three steps over to his own. Jim had been right in his assumption, as that would be the last time he would be with the Commander during his shore leave.

...

The rest of his shore leave days went by in a blur. Nothing seemed chronological to him until the day Bones knocked on his door. He was freshly rejuvenated from Georgia, relaxed and calm, but instantly upon seeing Jim lounge about his lodge with not so much as one snarky, cocky or perverted remark, he knew, just as Jim knew, that something was wrong. Jim felt a fool to think he could hide it from his best friend, though he desperately tried. With two days left until the _Enterprise_'s departure, Jim had little left to be excited for. Sure, he was looking forward to his captaincy, but knowing that he was going to have to choose someone other than Commander Spock as his First Officer was getting to him. And he wasn't sure why. He felt like he had known Spock forever, and having the Vulcan avoid him like the plague was disconcerting.

They were eating quietly together in Jim's lodge when Bones finally tackled his problem. "Jim, you got five seconds before I shove my fork up your ass at an alarming rate."

"I told you, Bones," Jim chuckled nervously over his replicated noodles, "I'm fine."

"Five… Four…"

"Bones, seriously, I'm cool."

"Three… Two…"

"Bones."

"One…" Dr. McCoy stood up with his fork in hand as though he wasn't about to ram it into his best friend, but Jim was alarmed anyway. Just as the doctor looked like he was really about to stab him, Jim caught his wrist and wrestled the fork out of his hand. Bones just let him win, he knew he wasn't serious but damn if that doctor didn't frighten Jim sometimes. "Don't make me do the countdown again." The doctor warned now armed with a spoon, "I will and this time I won't be fucking with you."

Jim sighed and relaxed back on the couch, Bones beside him enjoying some southern soup dish or whatever. Finally, after some thought, he gave in. Bones was his best friend. He'd understand, right?

Wrong.

After the next twenty-five minutes spent telling his best friend and soon-to-be Chief Medical Officer about the two days he had spent with the Commander, he had expected Bones to provide him with an epiphany of ideas that could have caused the Vulcan cold shoulder and how he could solve it. However, what Jim got instead was a very angry doctor.

Bones set his soup bowl down so harshly that some of the contents splashed over the rim. "I knew leaving you on your own for shore leave was a bad idea!" Bones cursed, "I told myself that there was more wrong with you than a few broken ribs!"

"Bones," Jim argued, trying to calm him.

"No, don't pull that shit with me, Jim. There's obviously something wrong with your head if you want me to believe that you _willingly_ spent time with the only other alien that tried to _kill_ you!" It made sense why Bones was angry, it was strange that Jim didn't show any kind of intensity around the Vulcan and had instead acted like a fool trying to befriend him based on what some crazy older version of said Vulcan told him. But, Jim felt a connection to him. He couldn't explain it, so that's what he offered McCoy, telling him that he just _felt_ that they were going to make a good team. Bones was quick to tear him down.

"Need I remind you that he tried to kill you—_Twice?_" Bones shouted and held up his index finger, "First, he jettisoned your ass to an ice ball," the index finger was then joined by his middle finger, "second, he wrapped his Vulcan fingers around your throat! Jim, you might not know this, but sadism is _not_ a prerequisite for being second-in-command."

"And scoffing at my choices in a command team isn't a prerequisite for being my CMO." Jim offered as a rebuttal. That made Bones stop for only an instant before he got right back up on his rant horse.

Pointing hard into Jim's chest, "It might not be for CMO, but it is for a best friend. You're my _best friend_. I care about you and the last thing you need is a psychotic Vulcan at your back. I don't think we need a repeat of the choking incident every time you guys decide to get frisky with each other!" Actually, Jim had thought about that. He knew that if Spock accepted the position that they would undoubtedly argue and may even go as far as to wring each other's necks (some more literal than others), but that didn't matter to him. As an officer, Commander Spock would be an incredibly important asset to his team. Even if they couldn't be friends, there was no doubt that the Commander was a great officer. Heat on the bridge would be tolerable if it meant successful missions. Of course, Jim thought, that might be entirely selfish. Spock may not want that kind of relationship. After all, why be the second in command to a bitchy Captain when he could remain planet-side, help his remaining family and hang with his good friend Pike?

_Oh, Pike._ Jim mentally snarled, but kept himself at bay. He had forgotten to mention to McCoy about the little challenge between them, but it still sat in Jim's mind like a fat elephant. He didn't dislike Admiral Pike, he still respected him and liked him very much, it was just… Jim knew from the start that going into a challenge with him over someone Pike had _already_ befriended was a bad idea. He thought he had a shot, and gave it his best, but ultimately Jim considered the Admiral the winner. Nothing had made that clearer to him than a week after the night Uhura came. Jim remembered it vividly, like a sore aching pain in his chest. The Commander had avoided Jim conscientiously, and when the Captain was coming back from lunch that afternoon, he noticed that Spock was packing up some boxes and leaving his lodge.

Hoping this would be his chance to bridge the gap that had formed again, Jim offered to help him move his stuff (it was less than a peace offering but more than a white flag). In response, the Commander told him professionally it was unnecessary and right on cue, as if the universe enjoyed crushing Jim's dreams into pieces, Spock's lodge door opened to reveal Admiral Pike, still in his wheelchair, bringing out another box of what looked like real books. Upon seeing him, an almost sorry look on the older man's face, Jim nodded, gave his acknowledgments, then promptly turned on his heels and entered into his own lodge.

Jim had never felt so disappointed before.

By now, he had brought himself back to reality where Bones was still ranting about how much of a stupid idea it was to want Spock as his First Officer, but his tone was drifting like he was starting not to believe himself. But still, Jim thought that maybe the doctor was right. Maybe Pike had been right too. It was a high probability that he was being selfish, unreasonable and that Elder Spock had been full of shit. This was _his_ reality, not some shadow of what belonged to that older Vulcan train wreck. Things could be very different here, in fact, they already were. He didn't know how he knew, but he was certain of at least this fact in his life.

Bones must have caught the sight on his face because at some point he had stopped rambling then proceeded to sit with his friend again, holding his soup bowl but not eating anything from it. "What's wrong, Jim?" Bones asked, evidently not caring that Jim's mind had been wandering during his bitching.

Jim shrugged, "I was just thinking about what you said. Maybe you're right. Maybe there is something wrong with my head. I was an idiot to think I could have my cake and eat it too." Bones huffed, then relaxed.

"Look," Jim peered over at him, the doctor appearing to frustrate himself unwillingly over something in his thoughts, "I know I don't like him. I think it's really stupid, but I think maybe I was a little quick to judge him. I mean," he gave a weak laugh, "you guys worked together so effortlessly to put an end to Nero and now hearing myself rant about how he's bad for you leaves a bad taste in my mouth. I mean, I'm still pretty pissed about the whole him trying to kill you thing, but… Listen," here Bones sat up and put one warm hand on Jim's shoulder, "if you think that pointed-eared asshole has what it takes to make your Captaincy easier, then I won't bitch over it. _You're_ the Captain, after all. You're capable of making good choices or Starfleet wouldn't have promoted your sorry ass… Just…" he sighed and rubbed the back of his neck with a small blush blooming over his cheeks, "don't replace me, okay?"

Jim's smile broadened slowly until it was in full bloom. For a moment, he thought that was all he needed to hear to rekindle the fire of Pike's challenge. Feeling confident again, now knowing that Bones wasn't going to berate him any further for his choice, he reached out and pulled the doctor over into a one-armed hug.

"Don't be gettin' all gay on me now." Bones warned, though it was he who fell nicely into Jim's embrace. To poke fun at the flames, Jim turned Bones' face to look at him so that their mouths were dangerously close. Their breath washing over the other's face.

"What would give you that impression?" A bright blushed ignited over the doctor's face as he forcefully pushed Jim away from him. The Captain could only laugh at his red faced CMO who looked ready to grab a hypo full of hurt. "I was just kidding!" Jim snickered, "Geez, calm down!" It had been days since Jim felt this good, and now with restored confidence, the knowledge that he may not get Spock on his ship wasn't so hard to take. The Vulcan was an enigma and would be a very challenging guy to friend, but Jim still had Bones. He couldn't forget that. He had been so caught up in his perusal of buttering up the Commander that he had forgotten he already had a best friend—just like Spock did in Pike. Jim wouldn't be a sore loser about this. If Spock really didn't want to join him, then that was fine, though the thought still made his heart a little heavy.

"It's a pity," Jim unconsciously said out loud when the two began to eat again, catching only a little of Bones' interest, "something tells me he would have enjoyed this side of paradise."

...

Jim pulled his gold tunic over his head.

It was finally time. He didn't waste time, even woke up before Bones who had crashed in his lodge for the past two evenings. Together, they got ready, Jim's heart pounding with excitement as he packed his small belongings away with a toothbrush still in his mouth. They didn't really speak, only moved around each other for their big day.

Once finished, Jim received the message he had been waiting for. It was a formal letter requesting that Jim report to the office of Admiral Pike for his first assignment and details. Though he didn't want to face him after the events of the Commander's move, he knew duty came before his pride and quickly banished any uneasy thoughts as he instructed Bones to take one his bags with him and that he'd see him on the _Enterprise_.

The halls were empty. Again. Jim found it oddly fitting as his footsteps echoed off the linoleum. Step after step, Jim found himself thinking how lucky he was that in just a few hours, he would be on the _USS Enterprise_, as her Captain and with most of the crew he had chosen. Most, because there was still that one empty position. He knew he'd have another month to actually pick one, and he knew of three people he was considering for the position, but none of them he desired.

Arriving at the Admiral's office door, he could tell through the blurred stain glass that someone was already in there. He rang the buzzer, the blurry figure moved and the door swished open to reveal milky skin peaking out from a tall black collar that lead to a certain cap of black hair and pointed ears.

"Captain." The Commander said with a formal nod, but before Jim could say anything in return, his mind fucking with him and making speech impossible, the Vulcan moved pass him, his steps now the only sound in Jim's ears. He stood there, not moving, just listening to the falls and feeling a strange tug of déjà vu. Pike brought him back to reality.

"Kirk." Pike said from his desk, "Come in." Taking a deep breath, remembering that this was a day for celebration and not loss, Jim stepped inside the office and sat down to get his mission.

Unlike what was previously told to him, Starfleet didn't want to send the new Captain out on his five-year mission yet. The _Enterprise_ was still new and so was her crew. So, before the five-year mission would be implemented, Starfleet had instead opted to give them a smaller mission to 'wet their feet', as Pike put it.

As he went on to explain and handed Jim a dataPADD with a copy of the information, the run down was simple and so was the reason why Pike had been the one chosen to give the mission to him. Jim and his crew were to work in part with the Vulcan effort group that Pike was heading. Before their shore leave had been given, a temporary base on Dragotti II agreed to house some of the now homeless Vulcans. Dragotti II was a planet with an atmosphere and terrain much like Vulcan and with such primitive life, held no threats to any humanoid species. Currently, the planet was inhabited by Starfleet scientists, much like how his brother was on Deneva, but had an open base that could house up to one thousand individuals to form a small colony. Jim's mission was simple: transport 1,112 Vulcans to the Dragottian base, then help rebuild the base to suit Vulcan needs and possibly expand the areas for more future transports. Easy.

The transport would take a week to travel there, they'd spend two weeks at the colony, and then the week travel back. Over all, it would take one month to complete. A perfect start mission, Jim thought. It was easy, would utilize most of their skills and get them ready for the big mission upon their return.

After some professional exchanges, and Jim was sure to go over the mission as delicately as he could, Pike told him not to stress about it and that he would go over it with him again when the Captain and his crew got together for their first mission meet. Jim stood, thanked Pike for his time and began for the door. His ship was waiting.

"Jim," The Admiral called before Jim activated the motion sensor. He stopped, almost feeling guilty and turned back to his commanding officer. Pike wore a kind smile, but he looked tired and almost saddened. Jim knew what it was about and began to speak before Pike had a chance to tell him what he wanted.

"I know," Jim told him, cutting the older man off, "you were the best man." He admitted, but Pike gave no response emotionally or physically. "Take good care of the Commander and tell him that I said 'good luck'." The Admiral didn't reply, didn't move anything except make a small, quiet nod. For some reason, he still wore his smile. Jim was uncertain how to interpret it, but blew it off as Pike's natural smugness for defeating a challenger. They gave their goodbyes, and Jim left.

Just as promised, the crew returned to a very friendly Captain. He stood next to Scotty who beamed his crew aboard one by one and greeted them with handshakes and greetings appropriate for other cultures. They all seemed happy, rejuvenated, excited. The feeling becoming infectious as the every smile made Jim's heart a little brighter. It took five hours, but finally all his crew were on board. The excitement was intense, everyone was moving about and setting up their cabins and stations. Jim walked the halls with a spring in his step at the wonderful vibrancies.

On his way back to the Transporter Room to relive Scotty back to the engines, he passed Uhura who had beamed aboard not twenty minutes ago. She had been friendly when he greeted her, and appeared indifferent from the encounter two weeks ago, but something was strange about her. As she went by, she had flicked her eyes up at him, winked, and had the largest smile on her face imaginable, though Jim was uncertain why. Maybe she was just happy to be back at work? Or maybe she was just excited that Jim decided to keep her apart of the Bridge crew? Who knew? Jim ignored it and continued on his way, thinking it was best not to ponder about the emotional stability of women.

Finally, two hours later, the ship was ready to set sail. The course was laid in for Starbase 3, where the Vulcan refugees were waiting for pickup, and all Jim had to do now was give the order and they would be on their way.

In the seven hours he had been on the ship, this was the first time Jim had stepped back on to the Bridge. The turbolift swished around him and deposited him swiftly into the shiny, beautifully repaired _USS Enterprise_ Bridge. Before he made a move, he glanced around. Uhura—at her communications station. Sulu and wonder boy Chekov—at the helm. Bones—even he was standing by the Command chair, waiting idly for Jim's return. That fact alone made his heart beam, his smile widen, and head cloud of ego. He did his best to ignore the fact that the science station was empty and would need to be filled sometime before they picked up the refugees.

Pushing down the sudden reminder of a friendship that could have been, Jim stepped out proudly on to his Bridge, alerting to everyone of his arrival and jovial excitement. The crew responded quickly and just as excited.

"Maneuvering thrusters and impulse engines at your command, Sir." Sulu reported. Chekov was right on his heels, the largest grin on the boy's face since he transported Sulu and him from falling to an unfortunate death.

"Weapons systeems an' sheelds on standby." Came the hard, distinct Russian accent.

Uhura turned professionally, flashed him a smile that he still didn't know how to decode and reported, "Dock control reports ready. Yard command signaling clear." Jim smiled right back, beaming all his pent up happiness to everyone in the room and landing his eyes on the one friend he knew he could always count on.

"Bones," he suddenly said nonchalantly, the CMO by his Command chair turning to look at him wryly as his Captain approached him, "buckle up!" He snickered with a slap to the guy's shoulder, mocking him and his fear of space in a pure Kirkian instance. Bones brushed it off exasperatingly, though Jim knew he was just happy to see his friend back to normal, while he sat in his comfy chair and struck the intercom system to the Engine room.

"How are we, Scotty?" He asked and was quickly answered like all the others.

"_Dilithium chamber at maximum efficiency, Captain." _Jim smiled, then thought for a moment he heard Scotty yell at someone to get down. Bones had heard it too, but neither of them questioned it, shrugging it off.

There was nothing else to wait on. The coordinates were set, the mission briefing to take place in less than four hours, everything and everyone was set. Jim flicked his eyes for a moment on that science station. For a beat, he felt defeated. He and Spock may have only spent a few hours together, but for some reason they had meant so much to him. He tried to ignore it, the feeling in his gut, but just as he told Sulu to prepare the thrusters for launch, it happened again.

The turbolift doors opened swiftly, and Jim saw an image of Spock walking out on to the Bridge. It took only a second for him to realize he wasn't imagining things and that there, indeed, was the real Spock standing before him in a blue tunic, hands behind his back like Jim remembered. The Captain stood up from his seat and met him half-way, a smile on his lips as he analyzed the Commander, praying this wasn't another one of his bizarre visions, and was delighted to know that the rest of the Bridge crew were looking at the Vulcan too.

It was real.

Jim's heart fluttered into his stomach.

"Permission to come aboard, Captain." Spock said in his perfect monotone, the words more of a statement than a question. Jim couldn't tell you why the Commander was here, nor did he care as he told him that permission was granted. Somehow, they moved closer together, Spock's three-inch taller height staring down at him. When no one spoke, Jim felt a little panicked, that maybe Spock was only here as Pike's aide to assist in the mission, but then—

"As you have yet to select a First Officer," the Commander began full of Vulcan confidence, "respectfully," he paused, "I would like to submit my candidacy. Should you desire, I can provide character references."

Jim knew his smile must have been a mile wide; their eyes searching each other and those warm chocolates peering back into his own ocean. A part of him wanted to cry out and smack the Commander for making him ride this emotional rollercoaster, but another part of him felt that something more was passing between them. Why he was here, would be a question for later. The only thing that mattered was Spock was _here_. With him. Now. _As fate intended_, he strangely told himself, though he wasn't sure why.

"It would be my honour, Commander." Jim finally said at length. Both of them understood there were more questions than answers, and of course, now Pike's smile really made sense. Pike must have known. If it was possible, Jim respected the Admiral even _more_.

Spock inclined his head and started for the science station, _professional and smug, _Jim thought instantly, but not minding. He watched the Vulcan pass Uhura whose smile only brightened and now that made sense too. She must have known as well. Everything was as it should be, and Jim couldn't be happier given the amount of stress he had over it.

Sitting back down into his Command chair, he ordered Sulu to take them out, and on the 'aye sir', their first mission began.

As a team.

Jim turned only for a moment to look at the Commander who was oddly enough already looking at him. Jim thought he may have imagined it, and maybe he was seeing things again, but he was certain he could see Spock smiling. Maybe not with his lips, but definitely with his eyes, as strange as that seemed. Turning away, looking out the expansive view screen, Jim mentally told himself:

_Let the epic friendship begin…_

...

A/N – Story's not over yet. We just got through the first arc! Yay! I didn't intend this to be your typical 'shore leave, wild smexing' fic, I really did want some action and plot. Also, there wasn't much of it here, but the emotional transferences will start to make bigger appearances and bigger problems in the next arc. We'll finally start getting into the real story. Isn't it exciting? Feedback is not expected, but always welcomed. I hope you look forward to the next installment! *blush*


	6. Chapter 6

A/N – I hope you all enjoyed your shore leave, because now it's back to business! lol XD

...

James T. Kirk wasn't just _a_ Captain. He was _the_ Captain of the _USS_ starship _Enterprise._ Back when he told now Admiral Pike that he could do it in three years, it had been a shitload of Cardassian sunrises, three shots of vodka and a couple glasses of Saurian brandy that spat that out. Oh, and then there was his damn ego, but that always got in the way so Jim just thought of it as a cosmic constant and not really worth mentioning. How ironic it was that the very trait that got him all his sucker punches, bloody noses, and ass-whoopings would be the very trait that landed him in a position to be called Captain. Mentally chuckling, that was the funny part of the whole thing. He was no longer that farm boy who went down town and did calculus on the alley walls as advanced graffiti to fuck with people, nor was he the boisterous cadet that tried to hack his way into success and claim it as genius. The very trait that hindered him had only proven to help him.

Huh, it was weird how the universe worked like that sometimes.

But who was Jim to argue? After the _Narada_ Crisis, not only had he unintentionally kept his promise to Pike, but he had made every person who ever called him on his bull to shit a brick and kiss his ass in thanks for saving their lives. Though unnecessary, the notoriety was something Jim could get used to, and believe it or not, he was thankful for the entire turn of events. However, his struggles were far from over. Jim knew this.

He had to admit that after what Elder Spock had told him in the cave on Delta Vega, he had gotten himself pretty excited over a companionship that he had only heard about in stories. He'd been so dead set on having that damn Vulcan as his First Officer that he almost forgot that the guy had tried to kill him (_thanks for the reminder, Bones_). So when he was coming to terms with the fact that Spock _may not_ be his First Officer and may instead go off and skip rope with the Admiral, he'd been really upset. Two weeks of shore leave completely blurred all by the fact that that knowledge deeply affected him—and he was still unsure as to why. But, that didn't matter now. In the end, Spock had come to him, and though the circumstances around that were shrouded in a lot of Vulcan dismissal bombs and probably insanity, Jim couldn't bring himself to keep questioning it. Something about knowing that Spock was going to be there to back him up and that maybe—just maybe—they could be the friends Elder Spock talked about, really brightened his ideals on Captaincy.

Yet, Jim also had to admit that Spock being on his team wasn't the only thing that made his heart flutter in uncontrollable anxiety (though it was a pretty good deal of it). All that aside, Jim could honestly say that he was not only thankful for who was on his crew, but that he had a crew at all. When put into perspective with the life he could have lived back in Riverside, all those parties, willing bedmates and irrefutable evidence that he was the shit didn't matter anymore. Being the youngest Captain in the fleet put a lot of pressure on him in more ways than one, and given that he was thankful and beaming his pride and ego every chance he got now, there were still those higher-ups that suspected Jim would crumble any day. It didn't take a genius to figure out the real reason behind the small 'test' mission, Jim was reluctant to confess. The paper-pushers of Starfleet wanted to not only see if he could complete a mission that didn't involve such high stakes as planet salvation, but they also wanted to see if he was capable of gaining the respect of his crew. He gulped for only a moment, but this was true. The ultimate crux in his Captaincy didn't rely on whom he got to order around, but how the crew took to being ordered by _him._ Jim was certain that with a mission as highly detailed as the Vulcan refugee project, would unquestionably determine if he could command those who wanted to shove his ass into closets just for _looking_ smug only a few months ago.

_Oh hell_, Jim thought, he could wing it. If Starfleet really wanted to see what Jim Kirk was really all about and a bag of chips, he could serve no less. With confidence, Jim would meet their expectations and thoroughly spit in their cornflakes when it was a mission complete. He didn't struggle with the barrels of Romulan phasers and Vulcan death grips just to have Starfleet undermine him with a task they thought would break him. If he needed to prove his worth, then damnit, he would. Could they really expect any less from James T. Kirk?

In less than four hours, the _Enterprise_ would be docking at Starbase 3 to pick up their pointy-eared cargo. In the meantime, Jim had thought carefully and quickly about who would be serving on his briefing team for the mission. It didn't take him long, and with the added assistance of Commander Spock, he had grouped a modest team to help him lay out the foundation of the project. He was on his way to Briefing Room Four when he ran into one of the members of his briefing team.

"I would ask why you look so bright, but then I remembered that your constant state of ego is the equivalent of a lighthouse." Bones and Jim fell into the same stride easily as they walked the corridors.

"Just a lighthouse?" Jim asked with his largest smile.

"Can you think of something larger?" Jim went to answer but was stopped by Bones' finger waving in front of his face, "Ah, ah,!" He warned, "Starship fluorescents don't count."

"Damn." Jim said under his breath but still with his large grin. "What about—"

"Man made, because egos are man made; so nothing galactic counts either."

"Damn, you are _determined_ to shoot down my delicate lighthouse ego." It was the doctor's turn to give a large smile.

"If I didn't, you'd become just as unruly as you were at the academy and now that you're a starship Captain, we can't have that, can we? So as your physician, I'm prescribing a double dose of ego punches for the duration of your service. Starting now."

Jim rolled his eyes in playful frustration, "Oh Bones, how _thoughtful_. You're a man truly _dedicated_ to his work."

"I know. I'm _astounding_." Bones said lightly with Jim's own ego being thrown right back into his face. Jim could only laugh.

"Man, what would I do without you?" Jim asked particularly no one with a slight shake of his head and a small, airy chuckle.

"Die." Bones retorted quickly, the smile that had been there before now amplifying and brightening his deep brown eyes. Before Jim had a chance to make a quip of his own, they had already arrived at Briefing Room Four, rendering their conversation to a stand still and giving the doctor a kick-ass exit. The Captain chuckled to himself, sometimes Bones was just too smooth. _And he calls me a cocky bastard…_

He followed in after the doctor, for a moment surprised to see his briefing team already assembled around the table like chocolates in a box. He glanced at each one of them, a smile warming his heart with each professional acknowledgment of their Captain. After his own greeting (and successfully convincing himself not to say 'what's up my starship homies?'), he sat at the head of the table with professionalism and tact. Mr. Spock was on his right, Bones was on his left, then the others around him were Lieutenant-Commander Scott, Lieutenant Uhura, and a face he hardly recognized but certainly welcomed, Lieutenant White. She stuck out the most among them as she was a terribly short redhead that could rival Chekov in the adorable department with her insistent freckles and powerless-like demeanour in her red uniform. When she greeted him with a small and blushy 'Greetings, Captain Kirk', he just knew that if he ever put her and Chekov in the same room, it would give everyone a cavity.

Jim smiled. Now that everyone was present, the only thing that remained was the transmission from Admiral Pike back on Earth. He sat in thought for a moment, wondering what kind of look Pike was going to give when he popped up and saw Mr. Spock beside him as loyally as a dog to its shepherd. He hadn't know the Commander was arriving, and he had a few reasons to believe that Pike knew Spock had already chosen to serve as his First Officer, but without straight forward answers, Jim actually knew nothing of what would happen when the transmission came through. Would Pike still perceive him as a rival? Would he tell him why Spock was here? Would he admit defeat? Would he try to hide his anger at being defeated? Some of those questions didn't really sound like Pike at all, and given how they parted, Jim just went with the idea that Pike somehow mustered up his awesome and deposited it into the 'convince Spock to join Kirk' account. Something told him that Pike had won the small challenge hands down, but instead of reaping the benefits, had simply given into Jim's enthusiasm and gave the Vulcan to him.

He flicked his eyes over to the Commander who (if he wasn't a Vulcan) Jim would have sworn the guy looked like he was about to fall asleep sitting up. Thinking that the Admiral just gave Spock to him didn't really sit well in his thoughts, mostly because he strongly disliked being pitied, and worse, being shown up. But all those thoughts subsided when Spock blinked and tilted his head so that he could look into the eyes of his Captain beside him. When their gaze met, it was magnetic. Something coiled in his stomach and made him think that this wasn't the first time he had gazed into those deep eyes. It felt more like the millionth time, so warm and familiar, like the stare was wrapping him in a warm blanket. His body tingled involuntarily as his memories shot back to when he was getting dressed for the memorial Ball, how those delicate hands had wrapped around him to place the decorations on his attire. It was almost like he could feel those fingers once again—

A sharp kick planted itself firmly into Jim's shin, bringing him right back to reality and slumping forward in sudden pain. Spock and he were so close, that the Commander caught his shoulders to steady him while he rubbed his sore shin.

"Captain? Are you all right?" Spock innocently asked, and Jim looked up to see two residing members of his crew with a smug expression. He had no idea who kicked him, but the answer lied with either Uhura or Bones who both were looking off in all directions like they were innocent and hiding it horribly. Maybe they _both_ had kicked him, but it was certain that _one_ of them had.

"I'm fine, Mr. Spock, just a sudden…" he peered over at Uhura who gave a slight smirk and Bones who seemed to meet it with his own, "_reality check_." He said under his breath. When the Commander asked him to repeat what he had said because he had said it too low, that was when the Captain noticed that Spock was still holding his shoulders. Tearing himself away quickly, both he and Spock apparently realized what small scene they had caused, though Jim was the only one who was blushing from it. He was actually surprised when the Commander literally, and quietly, pushed his chair away from him to make some distance. He tried not to feel a little hurt by that.

"Admiral Pike's transmission should be patching through in the next two point six minutes." Spock said in a tone that sounded a little off but clearly trying to sound like the same monotone he used regularly. No one else seemed to notice, so Jim guessed it was his imagination seeing more than was actually there. But just like clockwork, in two point six minutes, the device in the centre of the briefing table blinked to let them know a transmission was coming through, and in ten seconds, a hologram spread out over the table surface like a wall and shown the respected features of Admiral Pike, the occasional break in the hologram pixels distorting his visage.

The large, pixel Pike looked straight at Jim the moment the device blinked to alert them that they could be clearly seen as well. "Captain Kirk." He said with a nod.

"Admiral." Jim greeted back with a proper salute, the others around him following his example. There wasn't any tension in the way the Admiral looked at him, but there was a small amount of apprehension when his stare traded Jim for the Commander. Pike acknowledged him pointedly.

"Commander." He nodded.

"Greetings, Admiral Pike." Spock said with a deeper nod and tactful grace that could only come from a Vulcan. Then it happened slowly, but the hesitations lifted and were replaced with an easy smile. Spock appeared to relax as well, taking Pike's grace as a form of submission, perhaps? Jim was still uncertain what had happened between the two of them back on Earth. Really, he was just guessing based on their body language and since Vulcans lacked that certain telling aspect and Pike was a pixelated mass right now, he didn't have much to go on, save that the Admiral had one hell of a time pulling his eyes away from the Vulcan to focus on Jim.

He half expected to see Pike give him an equal glare, but that wasn't what happened. Instead, the Admiral's eyes fell playfully on to his in bright excitement. "Well Captain, you seem eager enough. Why don't we just get right into the heart of the mission, hm?" His tone of voice was also unexpected, but Jim wasn't one to argue with professionalism. It was like the Admiral was telling him that everything was fine and they were no longer competing for anything. It was good to know that Pike equally wasn't a sore loser. He rightly was a man worthy of respect, and Jim couldn't help but to admire him.

Pike's lighthearted take on the meeting was exactly what everyone needed and hadn't anticipated. As he explained the project, Jim noticed the tension lessened with every witty quip the Admiral made. Morale boost ever so slightly and the meeting was enjoyable, if not fun (another reason that pleased Jim, but really he couldn't expect any less from Pike who, in a way, reminded him of himself, but _much_ older and _much_ cooler). Over all, a very productive meeting.

As Pike went on to clarify mission specifics, Jim's mental capacity decided that his version of the project was far more understandable than the Admiral's. Pretty much, their mission was this simple: Step 1) Pick up Vulcans from Starbase 3. Step 2) Deposit Vulcans at the Dragotti II colony. Step 3) Help make deposited Vulcans comfy on Dragotti II. Step 4) Come back to Starbase 1 in one piece, please and thank you. There were other details that he was aware of, and a lot of circumstances that he was going to fear for, but after consideration, this mission couldn't have been simpler even if he was taking goodies to his grandmother. _Then again, even Red Riding Hood came into contact with the Wolf._ After the _Narada_ Crisis and Nero's upset revenge of shit-tastic proportions, Jim had learned not to take anything for face value. His mind was quick to remind him that just because the mission seemed simple, didn't mean it was going to be. If the Admirals really were looking for a way to break him, this, more than likely, had an underlying problem already established. Somewhere.

Then one problem made itself known.

"Captain Kirk," Pike said as Jim passed a dataPADD to Mr. Spock to review with him again, "we haven't spoken on this yet and this next matter is of great concern. Currently," he pulled up his own dataPADD for a moment, peered at it and then sat it down, "you have 431 officers aboard your ship, and the _Enterprise_ was built with 500 personal quarters. You'll be taking on 1,112 Vulcan refugees and I would like to know your lodging plans." Jim went to say something, but then realized he didn't have a lodging plan and this was going to be a problem since they would be docking at Starbase 3 in less than three hours now.

"I'm sorry to say, Admiral, that the mission was so fully detailed that we have not made a lodging plan as of yet, given other circumstances of the mission, our minds were occupied." Pike honestly didn't look too surprised.

"You'll be docking in three hours."

"2.8 hours, to be exact." The Commander said evenly, but loud enough to garner everyone's attention in a snap. "This is sufficient time to make a lodging plan, I assure you, Admiral Pike. We have the best officers from Starfleet of novice and expert experience. Considering our previous mission, you can 'rest easy' as the Humans say, that our top officers will have a plan set for the arrival of the refugees." The Admiral gave a large, knowing grin that seemed it was made for just Spock. It was almost sad, like he was smiling at something that used to be his.

"Mr. Spock, you are an officer of much talent, but given that you already have so many responsibilities, you can't expect me to believe that you will not only be handling the science teams, your First Officer duties, but also the lodging rosters."

The Commander inclined his head and raised a brow, as though a silent joke was passing between the two of them. "I was not referring to myself." He corrected and then nodded towards Lt. Uhura and Lt. White. "Lt. Uhura was top in her Xenolinguistics and Xenobiology classes, both in verbal and non-verbal academics. Lt. White was also top of her Xenobiology classes and her Xenosociocultural studies. I believe that these two officers are more than capable of providing a working roster for the allotted time we have left until we reach Starbase 3." Jim wasn't an idiot, but he was pretty certain that Pike just got burned Vulcan style. The subtle way Pike rubbed his chin and nodded with blank amusement told Jim that the Admiral was use to this type of dismissal. _Well, duh,_ Jim thought. Pike and Spock had shared a friendship prior to him, so it was natural to assume that Pike would be used to Spock's diversions. His mind was just about to focus on that friendship and what it could possibly hold when his better judgment got the best of him. This wasn't a time to wonder again why the Commander was here and what had happened between them (no matter how _badly_ the burn to just _know_ got to him), it was a time of planning and finding new homes for their unfortunate allies. _Priorities…_

Quickly, and following after Mr. Spock's appraisals, he turned to Lt. Uhura and Lt. White. "Well ladies, Mr. Spock says you can do it. I have no reason to believe that you can't, but I must ask before assigning more duties. Would you two be capable of forming a lodging roster for our guests and managing them in with 431 shipmates?" Uhura rolled her eyes like she couldn't believe her Captain was asking her such a thing and White only blushed for no reason he could fathom and nodded silently.

"Yes, Captain." Both finally said in slight off-unison.

"How much time do you estimate you will require to make the roster?" Spock asked, lacing his fingers in his lap. Uhura turned and looked at White. They exchanged a quick glance and then gave a nod like they had read each other's minds.

"One hour." Uhura stated.

"Two, tops." White added afterwards in a small voice and holding up two fingers as a visual, then quickly putting them down and quieting like if she was too loud, she'd be noticed.

Jim let his smile visually show his enthusiasm. "There you have it, Admiral." He said, triumphantly, turning back to the transmission, "You'll have your roster in about two hours, then." Pike looked around one last time and nodded.

"That sounds good, Captain. Then, I have no more questions or information to give you, and as much as I'd love to dull you with tedious regulation, I believe you have everything under control," he paused, "_especially_ since you have the highly renown Mr. Spock as your First Officer." And there it was. The last jab that Jim had been anticipating, because if it had been him, he would have done the same thing. Now, this was the time where if it were Jim, he would make a smooth exit and click the transmission off, and surely, that was what the Admiral had gone to do, but unlike what Jim envisioned, Mr. Spock stood up in his defense, obviously taking Pike's words more to heart than Jim was.

Oh yeah, he's a _Vulcan_, forgot about that.

Spock's sliding chair stopped the Admiral and caught everyone's attention as he lifted himself up by his hands on the table. "My service as Captain Kirk's First Officer has no bearing on how he would run this starship, Admiral. I have seen him in action, though it was through mutiny and most unpleasant circumstances, I find your accusation to be most inaccurate and thus, your addition to your statement illogical." Not a single person moved and honestly, Jim was having too hard a time trying to refrain from bursting out in laughter. Pike blinked and moved slightly away from the screen to show that he wasn't going to close the link yet.

From there, he stared at Spock who looked as insulted as a Vulcan allowed himself to look. The small smile playing on the Admiral's lips told Jim he hadn't expected Spock to take it so seriously. Jim hadn't either. After a short moment of silence with the other officers switching gazes wondering what the hell was going on, he finally reached forward to terminate the link, but right before, he asked, "How long have you lived among Humans, Mr. Spock?"

Spock appeared slightly taken aback by the off-hand question. "Four years, five months, and 18 days, Sir."

Pike nodded in agreement. "You still have much to learn." That made Spock stop and blink for a few moments in what looked like astonishment. The Admiral then looked at Jim and said in his best command voice, "If you really are the better man, you can begin proving it by thoroughly removing the stick up Commander Spock's ass, Captain." Then with a smile and a light salute, Pike ended the transmission leaving behind a confused Vulcan and a hysterical briefing team. Everyone was trying to hold back their laughter, but all of them failed, even Uhura who tried to hide her tiny giggles behind her hand. The only one not enjoying the hysterics was Spock who only burned a slight green colour before he faced his Captain with a stone cold exterior. His eyes were like onyx, but his face remained emotionless.

Bones was first to speak up as the laughter began to die down. "Lighten up, Spock, it was just a joke."

"I did not find anything the Admiral had said to be comedic."

"Oye, lad," Scotty got in, "he was jus' tryin' tah tell ye tah relax. Yer far too uptight for yer own good." Spock had nothing to say to that, but simply turned towards Uhura who tried to look innocent but realized she wasn't getting out of whatever Spock had just placed her in.

"Oh no," she said lifting her hands in her defense, "don't bring me into this." Taking her words for face value, the Commander then turned to Jim who gulped when the dark pits made focus on his skull.

Jim abruptly stood with a large diverting smile on his face. "Whelp! I think that concludes our briefing! Good job, everyone! You can all return to your posts now." He began to make a haste bee-line for the door, but stopped for only a second to tell Uhura, "Oh, and put that roster on my desk as soon as you can, Lieutenant." That was his downfall because when he stepped forward and activated the motion sensor triggering the door to open, he was brought to a halt halfway through after hearing his title called in a certain, distinct monotone.

"Captain," Caught between the sensors, Jim knew there was no way out and instead opted to face the music of his very angry Commander. He just hoped that minor insults about being uptight weren't going to make him choke a bitch again.

"Yes, Mr. Spock?" He voice _wasn't_ shaky. He cleared it a little loudly just to make sure.

"I would like to speak with you in private, if at all possible." The Vulcan had come up behind him, his heat seeping towards Jim's cooler body making him sweat, or maybe it was just the unneeded tension the Admiral had caused. There was no turning back now, you know, him being the Captain and all that. When officers needed his attention, he had to give it, lest he wish to unleash the wrath of the ever-growing paperwork monster (Starfleet Command). Conceding and admitting to himself that darting out the door in a last attempt probably wouldn't look good for morale, he sighed and offered that they remain in the briefing room.

One by one the team left, Lt. White's face the only one betraying her emotions. She looked down right terrified for her Captain. She also paused at the door and turned around, looking as though she was about to say something, but the Commander stopped her.

"That will be all, Lieutenant."

"Yes, Sir." She replied quickly with a bow instead of a salute, and skittered out the door lightly calling for Uhura to wait up for her. Now alone, Jim took his time and sat again, but Mr. Spock didn't much feel like sitting. So he stood a good arm length away.

When the Commander didn't say anything for a few beats, Jim decided he'd initiate. He was the big Captain after all.

"Let me just say that I have already given you permission to speak freely, because I figured you'd want to say something to me, but speaking freely doesn't include acting freely. So by no circumstances are you to kill me, however logical and deserving it may seem." That didn't earn him just one raven brow, but two straight into the Vulcan's hairline.

"I do not intend to harm you, Captain. I lack the evidence to suggest where you got this idea." It was a default Vulcan answer, but Jim only gave him a look that called bullshit, subtly reminding him of the Vulcan choke-tango display he offered for the Bridge crew. Spock picked up on it quickly, but instead of saying anything, he turned away, as if embarrassed by the memory. Jim rolled his eyes. This was going nowhere.

"Look, I'll speak with Pike about making a formal apology to you."

Spock noticeably stiffened. "That is… not why I wished to speak with you, Captain." Jim paused and did his version of mimicking his First Officer's eyebrow, urging him to continue because now he had no idea what he was here for. Spock waited and began, "When the briefing began, I noticed you were distracted. After Admiral Pike had made visual, I noted that you looked troubled. His end transmission, though informal, led me to speculate what your actions were implying."

"And?" But the way he said it was more like 'aaaaaaaand?'

"To assure that we come to no misunderstandings in the future, I simply wish to inform you why I chose to serve as your First Officer instead of serving as Admiral Pike's aide." Mr. Spock looked as serious as he could. Jim fidgeted for a moment, happy to get the information, but upset with himself for being so damn obvious about it. The Admiral really didn't help his case with that last comment. He waited. After a brief breath, the Commander turned away, then turned back, clutching his hands behind him.

"As I am unable to elaborate, I can only tell you that I did what… _felt_ right." He paused, obviously taking his Captain's featureless puzzlement as a negative sign and continuing as fast as he could. "Whatever had served to come between you and the Admiral has been thoroughly concluded with my decision, and I am hopeful that you will not harbor any ill feelings towards him as we will be coming in contact with him regularly for the extent of this mission."

Jim considered this and analyzed his words closely. "I don't think that will be a problem, Mr. Spock." He said with a small smile and scratching his nose. After an instant of thought, it dawned on him in that moment the real reason why Spock wanted to talk with him. "You _honestly_ thought that last comment was a low punch at me, didn't you?" Spock gave no reply, but looked him directly in the eye with heavy staring. It wasn't the kind of staring that made you uncomfortable, but the kind that told you things you should already know. With that and what little Vulcan body language he could read, it was a definite 'yes'. He laughed. "Wow. I must admit, Spock, of all the things I figured you wanted to talk to me about, presenting your loyalty wasn't what I imagined."

"I am your First Officer, as such—"

"Yeah, yeah," Jim waved him off, "and I'm _sure_ those two days we spent dancing around with one another had nothing to do with the defensive act." Spock fell silent. "And if this is what you do after two days," his voice dropped a little low, almost like he was flirting, "I _really_ would have liked to see what you would have done had we spent the rest of the two weeks together." That made the Vulcan look at him pointedly, his lips parting, but no words to say. He thought Jim was asking for an explanation for the sudden dismissal after their dinner those weeks ago. But, Jim deterred him, as that wasn't what he was going for.

"No, don't say anything." He lifted his palm to stop him and dropped it when the Vulcan's lips remained shut. "I just want you to know that I'm not angry, a little disappointed, but surely not angry. Believe me, if I was, I wouldn't have taken you as my First." _I would have jettisoned _your_ Vulcan ass to an ice ball,_ he mentally quipped.

Standing up from his chair, he approached the Commander so the space between them was very limited. "Spock, when you're ready to talk about it… I am too." A light pat on his shoulder and Jim started for the door, but he stopped when Mr. Spock didn't move an inch.

"Oh and by the way," he started and that got the Commander's attention as he turned intently, "thanks for the show of loyalty. Means a lot." He had no idea why he winked at him, but after the small gesture, he smiled and took his leave from Briefing Room Four, leaving in his wake a pondering First Officer. Now that that was settled, Jim had other things to do, but his mind would prove to make that more of an effort as his time with the Commander lingered on his thoughts for a good while after his departure.

...

It was a strange thing to admit, but Jim actually didn't know who was in command on his Bridge right now. He figured it was his First Officer, because he didn't see him for the next hour, but then again, Jim was in his cabin looking over the data of his mission and signing the paperwork that came with being incredibly non-expendable. He figured he'd know when he got back up there, but as it was, he wasn't needed right now and so paperwork came to be something to pass the time since he'd have to do it at some point.

After signing through at least a thousand files and thinking his eyes were going to bleed, Jim's attention was thankfully pulled away when someone chimed his door. He tossed the dataPADD aside and acknowledged the person.

The door swished open and closed instantly revealing the ever beautiful and could-be-Vulcan-if-she-damn-near-tried Lt. Uhura. In her hand was another dataPADD and on her lips was a soft smile, _one of accomplishment,_ Jim thought.

"What can I do for you, Lieutenant?" He asked as if he didn't already know. She handed him the dataPADD swiftly. Taking it up, he began flicking though it casually with his finger, too lazy to use a stylus.

"This is the lodging roster Lt. White and I have been working on for the past one point eight hours, Sir." Jim snickered, she sounded just like Spock if he had a vagina. Those two really were (are?) the perfect pair.

"Good work. And that leaves enough time for everyone to get settled into their new cabins."

"Yes, it does." She agreed, her smile becoming more of a curl. Then as Jim flipped through the names and happened to be in the 'K's, he realized why she had been smiling.

"Uhura, it appears you and White assigned me a different cabin." Looking up at her, she looked damn devious. She said 'yes' as an agreement, but her features read 'no shit'.

"There are two Ambassadors and one Vulcan High Councilman beaming aboard." She informed him, "Lt. White and I agreed that your cabin would be the best suited for them for the transport." Translation: _We gave your cabin to someone else because we wanted to fuck with you and hide it behind duty_. Okay, maybe that wasn't the real translation, but it was what Jim's brain threw together last minute and he had to admit it was probably funnier than the real message behind it.

"Well, I'm so _glad_ that you decided to inform me first." He told her with a half cocky smile.

"For the sake of the mission, Lt. White and I agreed that the Ambassadors' and the Councilman's comfort were our top priority."

He smiled for a long moment, just giving her enough time to say anything more if she wanted to, but she decidedly stayed quiet and didn't go for his bait. "And you were right to think so." Getting up from his seat, he walked around his hardly unpacked quarters and stretched. "Okay, that's cool with me, but your smile suggests that reassigning me to different cabin isn't what you're so excited about." So he couldn't bait her subtly, at least he could do it obviously. As if she just realized, Uhura wiped her smile away and bit her lip. "Well, there's no point in hiding it _now_." He chuckled.

She hesitated, but gave in to whatever she was thinking. "Well, as you can see, Captain, it's going to be a very tight fit. So, I hope you don't mind that we roomed you with two other officers to make space."

Jim liked where this was going. His perverted smile told all. "Are they—?"

"We were sure to make them men." She told him flatly with a mocked angry expression. Then she turned on him with the same casual smile he saw her wear three years ago in Riverside. "Seriously, did you really think I'd allow White to consider female officers with _your_ track record?"

Jim chuckled, he really adored how she had the nerve to call him out. Bold and beautiful. "No, I guess not, but I was kinda hoping I'd get to room with _you_ this time. You know," he playfully walked around her, "catch up, read some books, _get your name_."

She promptly folded her arms. "With all due respect, Sir, _hell no._" Jim smiled, it was good that he could tell she wasn't really angry with him or he might have taken that as a threat with her devilishly bold exterior, but she seemed sincere about it. _More than she did three years ago when it looked like she wanted my head on a pike._ And that was weird considering the last time he saw her acting this way had been when she stormed off after she caught him and Spock coming back from dinner. Whatever had happened, had apparently been mended (if the way they interacted now was anything to go by), but even if it hadn't, Uhura and Spock were 'logical' officers and he was sure that they wouldn't let they're disagreements stop their working relationship. Despite still wanting to know what happened between them, Jim knew it was none of his business and respectfully withdrew.

"So, where's my new room at?"

"I'll personally escort you when you have all your belongings repacked." A smirk. Jim walked over to his desk, threw some things in a box, tossed a few belongings in a drawstring bag, then went into his bathroom where he retrieved another small bag. He was done in five minutes, tops, he figured, and gave a sheepish smile when he lifted all his belongings into his arms. Since he had just gotten here this morning, all of his stuff was still packed and not strewn about. It wasn't that he was a procrastinator, but he thought he'd do all the unpacking after they started their heading for Dragotti II.

"Packed." Uhura tried to muffle an airy giggle. "So where's my room?"

Following her out into the corridors, she took him down one level into the main crew personal quarters deck and led him all the way to the end. One of the perks of being Captain was that the Captain's quarters were conveniently placed near the tubrolift so when say, the Captain got off duty, he could get to his cabin promptly and without fail or the extra-hard work of walking. But now, he was almost completely on the other side of the ship and the distance from the Bridge to the new cabin was a long walk. Oh, his legs, they would suffer.

"Your room, Sir." She said a little too happily. Jim thanked her and she walked off probably to make more senior officers walk a marathon. It was a simple personal cabin, Jim knew, with a single bathroom and one replicator, not too shabby, really. He could handle living in the smaller version of his suite for a week. He entered the temporary code and the doors swished open quickly. Entering, he stopped abruptly as his view took in the full sight of a pale physique, complemented with firm muscle, dusty dark hair across a chest and abdomen. He saw a cute belly-button, then nice abs that led up to forearms covered by the regulation black undershirt and was in transit to go over the head of a certain black cap of hair and delicately pointed ears.

Mr. Spock stopped for only a second, before he dropped the dark shirt over his body and greeted him as he would have in any other situation.

"Greetings, Captain."

...


	7. Chapter 7

...

Jim had to blink himself back into reality; he had no excuse to stare.

"Do you require something at this moment?" Spock asked in a formal fashion as he casually slipped on his blue tunic. Well, that explained where Mr. Spock was and now he really wanted to know who was in command on his Bridge.

"Ah, no," he started, then gestured with his full arms, "um, I think Uhura just made us roommates."

Spock paused and inclined his head, "I see." The Commander looked away briefly, but it was more than enough for Jim to translate it as discomfort. Jim wanted to say something, but Spock continued. "Lt. Uhura failed to mention whom I would be sharing this cabin with." Jim walked forward and set his stuff on the nearby empty desk.

"Do you not want me as a roommate, Mr. Spock?" That made the Commander snap forward but retain his emotionless façade.

"That would be illogical, Captain. As you and I are the senior officers aboard this vessel, it is logical to that we share a cabin for the duration of this transport."

"You don't seem too excited about it." Spock's brow lifted in just the right way to tell him 'Vulcans don't get excited'. "Oh, right," Jim muttered, echoing the silent thoughts beamed into his head, "'Vulcans don't get excited'. Right."

Mr. Spock stood still, appearing like he was wondering how he had gotten into this situation and probably thinking about their earlier discussion. Though they had the potential to be friends, they were still kind of strangers. It was logic that they share since they were the senior officers, but living with someone closely was what you did with someone you knew, and since they hardly knew anything about the other save the whole _Narada_ Crisis and about twelve hours of actual contact, Uhura might as well have roomed him with a random crewman.

For a brief instant, he wondered if it would be rude to ask Uhura to reassign them. He liked Spock, had learned to respect him after their crisis, and didn't want to make that willingly given loyalty banish just because they found they couldn't share room space. Thinking it best, Jim turned back to his things and gathered them back up into his arms.

"Don't worry about it, Mr. Spock." He said as he gathered his drawstring bag back up over his shoulder, the Vulcan watching him intently, "I'll just have Uhura rearrange us. It won't be too much of a problem, I'm sure." He started for the door. Just as he got within the motion detector's range, Spock called to him. This was becoming an annoying coincidence.

"Jim." The sound of his monosyllabic name called in that baritone made him stop at once and turn back to face the Commander. Hearing his name fall from those lips was almost like a luxury considering he often just stuck to titles.

"Would you rather a more formal valediction, Mr. Spock?" Jim asked sheepishly in a last attempt as a joke by using the Vulcan's own words from weeks ago. He really didn't think the Commander would get the reference as he figured Spock wouldn't have been thinking about it quite like he had, but the small warmth in his stoic features told him differently. The Commander didn't make an effort to move after him, but switched his weight from one foot to the other, then looked at him directly.

"No, Captain." he hesitated, "I wished to say that, I did not intend to sound repulsed by the notion of sharing a cabin with you." another hesitation, "In fact, I would be honoured." Jim smiled as he took in those dark eyes and watched as they changed in the lighting from a deep black to that warm chocolate Jim found himself fond of. Jim sat his belongings down and approached the Commander slowly, like his movements might make Spock run off if he wasn't careful, then he stood fully in front of the taller Vulcan and grinned.

"I would be honoured too, Commander." Almost like a whisper, although he hadn't meant for it to be that way, it just came naturally. Spock's gaze flicked down somewhere on his face, then back up languidly. It looked like he was going to say something more, but anything he may have uttered was quickly muffled as the door behind them swished open and in place of their silence was the loud whistling of some song Jim didn't recognize.

The Commander peered over his shoulder while Jim immediately turned to whoever appeared. The face in the doorway wasn't the only one surprised.

"I'm going to kill that woman." Bones grumbled as he violently set his small bag where Jim had put his, Jim and Spock nearly crowding together in the small cabin to make room for his rampage.

"That would be most unfortunate, Dr. McCoy," Spock said in a perfect evenness, "Lt. Uhura is a vital officer. Her death would be most regrettable." The doctor completely ignored the comment and all of his best friend's attempts at saying hello as he slumped himself angrily down on the nearest bed, which happened to be nearest the door, leaving the other two beds, which were side by side on the other side of the room, the obvious ones Jim and Spock would have to occupy.

"I knew I should have looked at the roster a little harder!" Bones complained, evidently as surprised as Jim was to find Spock but not nearly as enthusiastic about it.

"I do not think that would have accomplished much, Doctor." Spock continued, "Unless you had time to scroll through all 1,543 persons listed to look specifically for the ones sharing your cabin number." Bones only shot him a dirty look, but when he realized it would have no effect, he turned to Jim who was jollying himself at their expense.

"You set this up, didn't you?"

Jim mocked hurt, "Dr. McCoy, I am _deeply_ offended! How could you accuse _me_—your best friend—of having anything to do with this?"

Bones rolled his eyes. "Because it sounds just like something my _best friend_ would do. Are you trying to put me in an early grave?" Before Jim could retort, Spock decided to interrupt with his logic.

"I hardly see how sharing personal space with myself and the Captain could affect your mortality." That was totally a jab at Bones, no matter what Spock might tell him, that Vulcan had just been snarky. Bones could see through it too.

"I don't like you."

The Commander didn't appear surprised. "Then it is fortunate that our approval of each other is mutual, Doctor. I may not dislike you, as that would be a Human trait, but I certainly would not want you to think that I _like_ you."

Bones got up from his bed, "Why you green-blooded—" and approached Spock so closely with a finger in his face that Jim just knew all hell was about to break loose. He wiggled his way in between them and managed to stave off the doctor before he could swing around any serious insults.

"Bones, Bones." Jim said calmly and pushing him away from the stiff Vulcan who now wore an air of 'I'm better than you, kiss my Vulcan ass', "Chill. Just chill, okay?" The doctor didn't look like he was going to settle down easily, and since Jim understood that Bones was still upset over the whole 'jettison Jim to his death' thing, he decided that maybe this wouldn't work with the three of them. Uhura would just have to reassign one of them.

Bones stormed away and sat himself right back on his bed in aggression. Spock appeared indifferent to the whole matter, which really meant his panties were in a Vulcan knot too. Jim sighed. "Okay, guys, look. If it's really going to be that much of a problem," _no matter how unbelievably hilarious I think this could be,_ "I'll just have Uhura reassign us. It's no big deal." That didn't just get the doctor's attention, but the Commander's as well, and almost in perfect unison. It shouldn't have been funny, but it was.

"I am _not_ leaving." They both declared at the same time. Realizing this, they peered hard at each other, but Spock's was far more muted. Jim really tried not to laugh. They were both stubborn assholes. "I refuse to leave, he'll have to leave!" Bones barked.

"Dr. McCoy, I was assigned to this cabin before you, if anyone should be forced to leave, logically, it should be you."

Bones huffed, fell back on his bed and propped his feet up in a good old country style. "I've already gotten comfortable. To hell with your logic, I'm stayin'!" The Commander didn't miss a beat as he, too, walked over to one of the other beds and promptly sat himself down. Jim swore he could see the tension in his joints.

"Likewise. I am also staying." Bones grumbled and Spock looked in the opposite direction like he was doing the Vulcan equivalent of 'talk to the hand'. That had done it, Jim laughed. _Hard._ He never thought it was possible, but Jim literally laughed until his insides were hurting and he had the most uncomfortable urge to urinate. He finally managed to stop long enough to welcome his new roommates and take claim of the last bed. They would have to rearrange everything later, because if they kept the bed like this, Jim's rolling habit would ultimately put him on Spock's side in the middle of the night. But that was a matter for later. Or not, as Bones suggested they start sectioning off the room because he didn't want Vulcan germs on his side.

"Vulcans have similar bacterial properties that are typically found in the Human epidermis as well, Doctor, I do not see how—" Bones ignored him and pushed his bed as far away as possible.

"I don't want to hear it. You just stick to your side and I'll stick to mine."

For the rest of the time, Jim had giggle fits through their room arrangements. Both were stubborn and that just made it all the more entertaining. Spock wanted to formally lay out an extensive plan that divided the room into three equal parts, but Bones wouldn't have any of that. Instead, he decided to declare a certain piece of carpet as his territory and how more than a third of the shared shelves were going to be where he put his books and journals. There was a lot of arguing (well, more Bones arguing and the Commander just raising an eyebrow every now and then and stating something as illogical), but finally, the room was divided as well as it could be. Jim shuddered at the thought of how they were going to make the single bathroom work out after that tornado of hilarity.

Finally, with the doctor placing his things on the shelf and Spock unpacking small Vulcan items to place near his bed, which he had pushed to the far opposite wall of Jim's, things had quieted down. The end result was that the Bones portion of the room centred about the front area, and Jim and Spock's portions were divided in the back. With three people, the cabin looked exceedingly small, but they would manage. Jim was sure. There weren't any records in Starfleet that told of a Captain, a First Officer and a Doctor all killing each other by sharing a closed environment, _however_, that did sound like the opening to a horrible joke. _Note to self: Make a joke that starts with 'so a Captain, a First Officer and a Doctor walk into a bar...'_

All joking aside, Jim was just pleased to see things calm. He was worried for a little bit there that he was going to have see if the replicators could produce a referee shirt. It was a good thing this would only be for a week. He couldn't imagine this working any longer than that.

Now that all this was settled, it was back to business, Jim reluctantly told himself. Turning to Mr. Spock who was making sure his sheets were as flat as his humour, he asked who had the conn on his Bridge. The Commander answered quickly and respectfully.

"Mr. Sulu, Captain."

"Ah, okay, good. Don't you think it's time we go relieve him? Now that we're all settled in here I think it's time we get back to the matters at hand." He started for the door and paused. "Bones, you coming?" He asked when it looked like the doctor was too comfy on his bed.

"I ain't gotta do nothing until the refugees are beamed aboard, so I figured I'd rest a bit until then." And just as if the universe (oh, sorry, scratch that), _multiverse_ made it a habit to ruin Dr. McCoy's good spirits about being left alone in the cabin, the wall intercom whistled and out spoke the delicate and uncertain voice of Lt. White.

"_Bridge to Captain Kirk."_ Jim tried to hide his smile as he figured his friend's quiet time was about to be ruined. He clicked the intercom on in one hit.

"Captain Kirk here."

"_We have arrived at Starbase 3, Sir. Mr. Scott has already gone to the Transporter room and is awaiting your arrival to begin the transports."_

"Thank you, Lt. White." He heard Bones grouse some curses under his breath about 'great timing'. Jim snickered, "Have Lt. Uhura send a copy of the lodging rosters to the security team, I want them to escort our guests once they are on board."

"_Yes, Sir."_ And the intercom was turned off. When he turned to face the doctor, Bones was already getting up.

"Looks like your break is over." Jim confirmed.

"Thanks, Captain Obvious." Bones muttered but actually didn't seem all that upset about it. "I'll follow out after you and First Officer Logical." The Commander raised a brow to the coined nickname. Jim decided to tug his First Officer along before any insults ensued after they just settled everything.

"Don't mind Dr. Disgruntlement."

"Hah, you're funny, Jim."

Jim flashed his best ego induced smile. "Thank you, Doctor. Now, come along, Mr. Spock. We have refugees to greet." He led himself out, knowing that Mr. Spock would be directly behind him (not sure how he knew), but slightly turned his head anyway, just to make sure. There Spock was, walking coolly behind him, his hands at his sides and his back straight to give him a powerful posture. Seeing him like that made his heart flutter, as he hadn't seen Spock walking so loyally behind him since their academy days.

He stopped. He hadn't known Spock like that back at the academy. In fact, Spock had been his instructor, but never had he followed him anywhere for any reason. If anything, due to Jim being an energetic cadet, they had avoided each other when at all possible. The most amount of time they had spent with each other on campus had been limited to that one semester class and the _Kobayashi Maru_ hearing. That memory, which _did_ feel like a memory, didn't make sense.

"Is everything all right, Captain?" Mr. Spock asked, no concern voiced but implied. Jim had to shake his head mentally. Where had that thought come from? Why did he even think such a thing? He had no explanation, but he did appear to have a pattern. The last time he felt his head like this had been two weeks ago when he was with… no. Jim was reading too much into it. He was just stressed and excited about his Captaincy and first mission. That was it. Yeah.

"I'm fine, Mr. Spock." Jim told him as he put back on his famous smile. "Shall we continue?" Before Spock could voice his opinion, Jim started off again, going off so quickly that he missed the small allowance of puzzlement and suspicion on Spock's face. And he wouldn't get a second chance either, because when he turned to make sure the Commander was still following him, it was gone. Hidden behind the mask of Vulcan civilities.

...

The Transporter Room was packed, or at least fuller than he had ever seen it. Jim was thankful the room was more spacious than he thought, what with security guards lining up to guide their guests to their rooms and the first waiting party of six Vulcans to be beamed aboard. Everything was ready to go and the beaming could start. An officer at the starbase cleared them ready. All that remained was the go ahead to Mr. Scott.

"Aye, ready when ye are, Cap'n." The Captain was just about to say go for it, when he stopped and twirled to look at his stoic First Officer, prim and proper beside him, hands folded nicely behind his back.

"Hold that thought, Scotty." Spock lifted a brow questioningly. Jim then dropped his voice to a whisper. "Uh, Mr. Spock, I'm not exactly familiar with Vulcan customs. Do I need to do anything special in greeting?" The Commander didn't give a reply but inclined his head and removed his hands from his back.

"Vulcans traditionally greet with the Vulcan salute, Captain." He demonstrated by lifting his right hand and extending all his fingers, his first and middle fingers put together and spaced away from his ring and pinky fingers, which were also put together to form what looked like a 'V' shape. Studying it, he then lifted his own hand and tried to make the gesture.

He failed miserably.

Jim tried placing his fingers together with his other hand, but once released, they parted as if tied to a spring. "This hand thing isn't working out." Jim muttered. But then to his rescue, and happening slowly just like with the decorations, the Commander stepped forward and took his right hand into his palms. The Vulcan hands were intensely warm and soft, unlike the vision he had in his mind of them being dry and calloused. Logically, and a lot quicker than Jim's mind was playing back for him right now, Spock arranged his fingers gracefully until they were in the right shape. His face felt hot, his hands feeling every bit as embarrassed as his face. What a weird sensation.

When the tip of Spock's index finger brushed over his, both of them looked at each other instantaneously. Jim felt like electricity had run up his arm, but the Commander pulled away his hand as though he had just been burned. Jim stared down at his saluted hand and looked up. Were Spock's cheeks always like light olive colour? His hand tingled, strangely in the aftershock. He went to speak, not really sure what he was about to say, but the Commander beat him to the punch.

"That is correct, Captain. Simply raise your palm upon their arrival and that will be sufficient." His voice was that strict monotone, his eyes faced forward in alert and professionalism. He wanted to ask if his hands felt the same tingle, but then thought better against it after judging the stoic return on the Commander's face. It probably wasn't a good start to your mission by asking your First Officer if his hands felt tingly from handling. _Actually, that sounds almost creepy... Great. Where does that put my creepy factor now? 210%? Damnit._ Ignoring his inner ranting and giving the order, he told Scotty to begin the transport. The strange sensations would just have to be addressed later and filed under Bones' 'WTF' file.

As the transporting began, Jim knew that if he hadn't a clue that he was beaming aboard Vulcans, he sure as hell would have known it the moment they arrived, even if they had managed to cover up their pointed ears. Each party that materialized in front of him were perfectly straight and centre in each pad, like if they stepped out too far from the little circle they'd die or something. Also, their expressions were mute. Jim may have only spent a relatively short amount of time around his own Vulcan, but observing the differences between those of pure breed and the tall halfsie beside him, he could clearly put into perspective just how much Spock struggled. It was like, around Vulcans, he appeared too Human, and with Humans it was just the opposite—he was too Vulcan. The Commander, though, decided that around his people he would present himself as Vulcan, as so, that is what he did. Stiff, monotone, expressionless, beside Jim he greeted them all in true Vulcan fashion. It was like watching a machine. He wondered if it was wrong for him to miss that carefree chatterbox that he had shared dinner with.

The assembly line of duty worked for a straight two hours. The Vulcans were beamed aboard, they were greeted by both Captain and First Officer, thanked, then were escorted by the next security guard in line to their quarters. Rinse and repeat. Jim would have found this task tedious and boring had it not been for the fact that understood the grim circumstances playing around why he was transporting these refugees at all. In the back of his mind, with every passing face, the harsh lines forming from their constant control on their emotions, Jim felt guilty. No matter which way he thought about it, no amount of discipline could have prepared them for such a catastrophic event.

He felt it was his fault. That he could have done something more. Fought harder, taken the explosive from that damned thrill seeker Pike had sent him and Sulu down with. He could have done something more, _damnit! _Beating himself up mentally,he didn't notice it was seeping through his Captain mode until he felt a light touch to his shoulder. Long fingers were barely touching him, and those fingers led to a Vulcan who kept his eyes forward, giving Jim Spock's profile.

"You performed admirably." The Commander told him, and he knew it was meant to be sincere, but the harsh evenness of his voice from being all uptight Vulcan again made it sound aggressive. However, Jim knew better, and thanked him.

"It's good to know that, Mr. Spock." He replied and straightened himself up for the next round of Vulcans. For some unknown reason, Jim turned his head to look at him. Maybe he was gauging his reaction, or maybe he was curious to see if Spock had anything else to say, but as it was, the Commander had nothing to reply, just stare. Blue eyes met brown, and they locked. It happened so fast that he was unconsciously aware of his heart feeling like it had stopped, and just like it had never happened, their eyes tore away the moment Scotty's brogue broke through.

"Last party tah beam up, Sir." Unlike how everyone coming back to the ship had taken their time and were parties of one, with the quick efficiency of Vulcan cooperation, they had managed to beam aboard 1,108 Vulcans in record time. According to Scotty, only four remained and these would be the Ambassadors, the High Councilman, and a fourth Vulcan. Jim didn't know whom the fourth one would be since Uhura only told him of the three elders. Vulcans, however logical, still had it in them to give surprises.

They materialized slowly, blinking into existence with swirls of light and fantastic hums. Completed, Jim took in the sights of the Vulcans about the Transporter pad. They were all dressed in elegant robes, tassels, and Vulcan symbols that didn't much make sense to him, but he couldn't analyze them any further, or even make out the faces of the others on the pad when his eyes caught sight of the most beautiful thing.

She stood out among them, shorter, younger, but breathtakingly beautiful. Even with her upswept brows, ruler cut bangs, and long thick curls brought up to the top of her head in an elegant bun adorned with jewels and one stick of blond wood with a jeweled Lilly on the end, she was gorgeous. Her eyes were a vibrant honey colour, her features only accentuated with her silvery eye-shadow, long dark lashes and light olive lips. He regretted that she wore such a long, dark robe, because he half bet that underneath it was the body of a beautiful woman.

He wanted to greet her, to say his name and ask for hers, but his brain had completely shut down. He was finally brought back to reality when she looked away, uninterested, as an elderly Vulcan stepped down from the pad, Vulcan salute prepared.

"Peace and long life, Captain Kirk, Commander Spock." Said the Vulcan, clearly observing that Jim's mind was occupied. "I am Councilman Sutek, and this," he said moving aside to show the beautiful Vulcan again, "is my daughter, T'Pangu."

She offered the Vulcan salute. "Peace and long life." Her voice was even, sophisticated and full of everything a woman should sound like. Jim greeted her back, the salute a bit awkward, but he finally managed.

"Peace and long life, Lady T'Pangu." He stepped forward, in hopes to greet her as he would any woman. He was initially just going to give his famous smile, however, unconsciously, he went to grab her hand to give it a kiss instead. As he leaned forward to give the contact, oblivious to Vulcan traditions, he was suddenly brought to a halt by a familiar, rusty voice.

"That would not be wise, old friend." Jim fell back on to his heels, just barely missing the contact he would have given to the beautiful T'Pangu. Peering over her shoulder, he, along with everyone else, looked for the Vulcan that had spoken. The figure stepped from his place, dressed in lighter robes than the rest of them, his hands older, but still elegant in their hold. Above the hands was a necklace set dead centre on the elder's chest in the only symbol Jim did recognize as the IDIC, and above that was the creased visage of a Vulcan who had seen many hardships throughout his life. His mind only took a beat to know whom he was staring at.

Elder Spock.

After the recollection, Jim's mind gave him a swift kick in the memory about the whole thing that had happened on Delta Vega. The time paradox that he had been warned about. Did Elder Spock not know he had gained Captaincy of the _Enterprise_ and his First Officer was his younger self? Why would he chance a time paradox if he knew? Unless…

Jim looked around. Everything seemed to be okay. For now. No cracks in the hull, no death vortexes or dividing by zero taking place. Mr. Spock didn't seem at all surprised or like a guy about to be blown to bits by the Grandfather Theory. Everything was stable, normal, fine. This raised a hell of a lot more questions than answers.

They had been silent for far too long and to break it, Elder Spock stepped forward and presented the Vulcan salute. "Peace and long life, Captain Kirk." His voice was gruff with age, but still felt warmer than any of the greetings he had gotten from the previous refugees. Jim met his greeting. "I am Ambassador Vulcan," Elder Spock continued, then presented the other Vulcan behind him, "and this is Ambassador S'Voiik. You have our gratitude for allowing our stay on your ship."

"And we welcome you, Ambassador." Jim replied with a minor waver in his voice, still uncertain about it all. This only seemed to make those older, more experienced eyes brighten into what looked like a smile without actually smiling. To pull himself away from a sudden tide he felt from those eyes, Jim tugged on Spock's sleeve and brought him forward. "This is my First Officer, Mr. Spock." It was test. He wanted to see what would transpire because he wanted Elder Spock to know that they may still be in danger of a paradox.

"Ah yes," Elder Spock said while raising his hand to give greetings, "it is an honour, Commander."

Spock greeted back and with a deep bow. "Likewise, Ambassador." If Jim didn't know any better, he'd say that those two were sharing something quite like what he had seen take place between Spock and Admiral Pike. Like a silent joke was passing between them, or something more. Was Mr. Spock catching on that Elder Spock was himself? He tried to find out by observing his reaction, but nothing short of a proper Vulcan exterior was seen.

Elder Spock broke his concentration. "Captain, I would be most honoured if I could speak with you on behalf of myself, Ambassador S'Voiik, Councilman Sutek and Lady T'Pangu. Would you mind giving me a tour of your ship while my acquaintances are escorted to their quarters?" How could he say no?

"Of course. Mr. Spock, would you mind showing our guests to their quarters? I'll meet you back on the Bridge when I finish with Ambassador Vulcan." Spock exchanged glances with Elder Spock, but didn't look suspicious. Maybe curious, but not worried as he complied with the order. Asking the others to follow him, they were quickly filed out of the Transporter room with the utmost efficiency and grace. When all that was left was Scotty, Jim relieved him of duty, giving a smile to Elder Spock who watched the Scotsman leave in a hurry to get back to his engines and none of the refugee business.

"I am pleased to see that Mr. Scott did not leave the _Enterprise_, as was told among Starfleet."

"Yeah, we decided to keep him." Jim chuckled. Slowly, he turned on the serious mode. Now that they were alone, he could speak a little more freely. When Elder Spock said nothing, Jim decided to break the ice in true Kirkian fashion.

"Ambassador _Vulcan_?" He asked sardonically, "Couldn't you come up with a more, uh, imaginative name there, Spock?"

"You must forgive me, Jim, but creativity was not my specialty and was promptly left up to another certain imaginative Captain I once knew." His eyes never left Jim's, and the way he spoke might have been slow, but the words were warm and welcome unlike how every other Vulcan had spoken to him. It was hard to believe that this guy was Spock at all.

Oh, yeah, about Spock…

"Please tell me that you didn't know that Younger You became my First Officer. I think we're lucky as all fuck that a space-time rip didn't encompass the entire Transporter room." Elder Spock said nothing, but simply stared. The staring continued and gave just enough time to allow a little light to come on in Jim's head. This guy was old enough to be his grandfather twice over, there's no way he would have beamed aboard a ship if he were worried about a paradox issue. He had insisted on Delta Vega, and surely if he had said that Spock was supposed to be his First Officer, he anticipated that the younger Vulcan would be here. That left only one other explanation.

"You lying, son of a bitch." The words were said through laughter, the eyebrow on Elder Spock telling Jim that he had not expected that kind of response. "You knew the whole time, didn't you? You just wanted me to, aw man, that's cold." He spun around in exasperation. "You just didn't want me to have the easy way out! Is this pay back for a lifetime's worth of controlled resentment for cheating on the _Kobayashi Maru_?" Old man eyebrow lift off.

"So you cheated on the _Kobayashi Maru_ in this reality as well." It was more a statement than a question. Jim snickered as he remembered how he did it.

"We've discovered another cosmic constant, I presume?"

"It appears so."

"Did I piss you off then, too?"

"Let me just say that I was at first disinclined to accept that you were next in line to command the _Enterprise._" Jim released his chuckles and gave a solid pat on the elder's arm. Who said Vulcan's lacked humour? Well, at least _this_ Vulcan had humour.

"So, how about that tour? Wanna see your old ship, used-to-be-First-Officer-Spock?" Jim led them towards the door, no agreement needed, as Elder Spock looked as thrilled as he allowed through his Vulcan exterior.

"Jim?"

"Yes?"

Pause. "Please do not call me that." Jim smiled.

...

Every fiber of Jim's being knew that they weren't really going to tour around the ship. They looked around, Elder Spock indicating things that were the same and different from their realities. It was pleasant, Jim had to admit, but not really the type of experience you'd expect it to be. Elder Spock was well, an _elder_. In this age, the guy should have been relaxing in a Vulcan retirement place or something, but instead, he was walking around and talking like he was fit to climb a mountain. Maybe he was. He had been jettisoned to Delta Vega before him, after all. Also, Jim knew close to nothing about Vulcans or how they aged, yet, he didn't dare ask. Elder Spock appeared to be a man who would handle himself until absolutely necessary. Jim didn't want to offend him even if his intentions were sincere.

They took a detour into Observation Room One. The room was comfortable, quiet, and the stars were dazzling in their slow progression pass them. Elder Spock walked up to the view screen, his pale, old hand touching the thick glass that separated them from the deep, black vacuum of space.

"See something you like?" Jim asked innocently as Elder Spock peered into his own reflection lightly bouncing off the glass. He turned slowly and looked at the Captain with a face he couldn't translate.

"I do, Jim." His eyes were dark, but welcoming as they glanced around him. Jim stood beside him and looked out the glass. He felt a little strange with the elder Vulcan studying him so blatantly. "But, that is not what we are here to discuss." Elder Spock joined him in viewing of the stars.

"Jim," he began with hesitation, "there are a few favours I would like to ask of you on behalf of myself and my acquaintances—if it will not be too much trouble?"

Jim gave a small smile. "Whatever you want, it yours." Elder Spock reflection looked as if he didn't believe that to be true. Jim turned in response, Elder Spock's eyes drifting to him like a river breaking a dam.

"It is not much. I only ask that you give us privacy in our quarters and…" he trailed off, "would it be too much trouble to get sea salt?" Jim had been asked for some weird shit before, but that was the first time anyone had ever asked him for sea salt. And probably the last.

"I can have Lt. Marshall tweak the replicators for it, if you'd like. May I ask why?" The elder tried to hide the small smile, and he managed it.

"Curious?"

"You're not going to tell me, are you?" Elder Spock turned away, now visibly trying to hide a Human-like twitch of his lips.

"Indeed I am not. You may, however, come and visit me in my quarters six point four solar days from now and you will see."

Jim shrugged. "It's a date." He declared, and though he expected that this Spock would call him calling their meeting a date, he wasn't too surprised when he said nothing about it.

It wasn't long after that that they fell right back into small conversation. Jim noted how easily it was for them to do that. A passing solar system had caught Elder Spock's eye and he decided to explain to Jim some of the fantastic creatures he had seen from his time. Jim listened like an eager grand child hearing old war stories and television programs that canceled long before his birth, except some of these stories could be about his future and this Spock wasn't his grandfather. And though Elder Spock was certain to leave out things that involved his other self, Jim felt a strange sort of déjà vu. Like his mind was trying to remember these stories, and yet, he couldn't. He couldn't really explain it.

It was even more puzzling when he said an off handed comment about something Elder Spock was discussing, "Nomad was a strange probe that had developed a mind of its own." the elder Vulcan went on to explain, "After melding with the device, I had found its mind was even more dynamic than should be possible for a machine."

"Yes," Jim agreed, not really thinking, the story sounding so familiar. "when you fell into my arms, I was worried that that... _thing_ had harmed you." Elder Spock stopped abruptly, his gaze flickering on to him quickly.

"Forgive me, Jim, but could you repeat that?" Jim went to repeat himself as though he did this all the time, but as his mouth opened, no words came. He had forgotten whatever it was he had said. In fact, now he couldn't even remember the conversation. Pausing, he blinked a few times and thought desperately for the memories. None came.

"Uh," he began with a small laugh, "you're going to find this illogical, but I actually don't know what I said..." Elder Spock didn't deter his watch. "I guess I was just really getting into it. Sorry about that." The elder Vulcan was silent for a moment.

"There is no need to apologize. I understand." Well it was a damn good thing someone did, because Jim had no idea. "Has this happened before?" Elder Spock questioned. Jim shook his head.

"Nah, I think I'm just tired. It's still my first day on the job, you know."

"Indeed." The older man agreed. "Perhaps it would be best to rest before you head to the Bridge?"

Jim dismissed the idea. "No. I don't want to leave Mr. Spock up there all by himself. It's his first day, too, and the last thing I want to do is overwhelm him and make him think I'm incapable. Not after all the bullshit I went through to coax him to my side and not Pike's."

"Indeed?" And so began a small and moderate explanation of the circumstances that led to Mr. Spock becoming his First Officer. He left out some parts (mainly the ones that sounded _way_ too homo to be mentioned) but the story was told as he remembered it. Elder Spock did little except listen and nod occasionally. "That is quite a story." He said.

"Yeah, but I tell ya, you were so right. He's... he's amazing. During dinner I felt so relaxed, like I could talk about anything, and then when I saw him appear on the Bridge, I think my heart jumped into my throat. I was scared shitless that he was going to tell me he had chosen to be Pike's aide."

"But he did not."

"No." Jim shook his head softly, "He didn't." He confirmed. "And I am thankful for it. I just hope that even with the distraught misfortunes Nero brought us, that we can become what you talked about. A friendship that surpasses time." He felt a hand touch his shoulder, in response, Jim looked up. The eyes looking back at him were soft, chocolate coloured, and determined to swallow Jim's soul.

"Not just time, Jim. Not just time."

They fell silent, but it was comfortable. Elder Spock removed his hand, allowing them both to just stare out into the cosmos. No one spoke for what felt like minutes.

"So, I have a problem." Jim confessed.

An eyebrow rose distinctively. "Oh?"

"I know I'm not supposed to ask this, but honestly, you can't damn well blame me given the situation."

"Jim—"

Jim put up his palm to stop him. "No, no. It's not about my future self, so don't worry. I just... Ever since Uhura came and made him avoid me like the Black Death, I've been worried that he might try it again. I don't really want that. Any advice?" The elder sat back in thought, remembering how Jim just told him about how confused he was over the two weeks of no show and how he felt so damn disorientated from it.

After a few moments, a twinkle appeared in his eye as he calmly said, "Ask my younger self if he would like to engage in a game of 3D chess."

...

A/N – How many of you thought T'Pangu was really going to be T'Pring? Lol. Also, for the record, T'Pangu's name is pronounced with a tall 'A', and the 'U' is silent. So it's more like T'Pong. I just wanted to be difficult with my spelling. I hope you look forward to more! Thank you for reading and the reviews have been simply wonderful!


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